


Three Nuts for Orlando

by Beryll (Rynthjan)



Category: Actor RPF, Lord of the Rings RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fairy Tales, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-24
Updated: 2012-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-04 05:58:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynthjan/pseuds/Beryll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his father has died Orlando is left an orphan with his evil stepmother and stepsister, who make his life hell. Can he find love and happiness...?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written together with my darling husband Osiris Brackhaus.
> 
> The plot is shamelessly stolen from Bozena Nemcova who wrote the Czech Version of Cinderella.

\- Orlando - 

"Orlando Bloom! Where are you? The fireplace in the lounge isn't clean, and the whole driveway is still full of snow! I'm not asking much of you, but you're too lazy to do even that! Do I have to do everything on my own?"

My stepmothers voice cut through the cool winter's morning air like a shard of glass would cut through butter.  
It was the first weekend of December, and as usually, she was expecting important visitors. The local Senator and his wife would come over for a brief visit like every year before Christmas, doing some charitable fundraising for some poor kids far away.

What a farce, I thought as I threw another load of firewood into the wheelcart next to me. Not that I minded helping some starving kids in Africa, but what about the local poor kids?   
What about me?

With a sigh, I dropped the last load of wood into the cart and started to push it to the mansion. It was late afternoon, freezing like hell, and I was wearing only my old, faded jeans and the old, many-patched red pullover my real mother had knitted herself. It wasn't as if I had many things I could choose what to wear of.

It had been quite different when father was still alive, before his heart-attack. Then, I had been together with my family when greeting the Senator or whoever came over for the holidays. I had lived a happy and sheltered little life. 

Until, two years ago, I got notified that he had died. Suddenly, without a warning. 

And even more of a sudden, I had found myself with nothing more than the cash I carried with me in my possession.

With a shock greater than anything I had imagined to that point of my life, I had to learn that my stepmother, right in the very night my father deceased, had taken counsel with her lawyers, very effectively blocking me from claiming anything of my heritage, securing every last penny for her and her beloved daughter.

Growling disdainfully at the thought of my half-sister, I stopped the cart next to the kitchen door and began to unload it again, as I heard something shatter on the tiled kitchen floor.

So I dropped the wood again, rushing into the kitchen, only to find our kitchen boy Sean hunched over a pile of shards on the floor, looking close to tears. He was a very good-natured boy, but a bit clumsy at times, and mother hated people who did not treat HER property with sufficient respect.

And, as if she had waited for her line to appear, Cate stepped through the kitchen's other entrance, still wearing her riding outfit, complete with helmet and crop, fuming at what she saw as personal offence. Right behind her, my stepsister Liv followed, completely displaced in a rather expensive-looking Italian gown. Apparently, she had been trying to figure out what to wear for the tea with the Senator. He was supposed to bring his son with him. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.

"Who was that?", my mother hissed, and the way she held her crop indicated that she dearly would have liked to use it on whoever had dared to deliberately destroy her possessions.

"Please, Ma'am, don't be so hard on him. It's been the chipped bowl anyway", our cook Rose tried to intervene; but that didn't impress Cate one bit. 

Seeing Sean cringe on the floor, I felt pity for him, and as so often before, stepped forward.

"It's been me, Mother", I said, "I'm sorry."

For a while, she just stared at me, fuming, apparently fighting with herself not to use the crop on me. 

"Why do you always do that, Orlando?", she asked, her voice as cold as the water of the lake outside, as calm and treacherous as the ice that covered it. "I just wonder if you are just that stupid or if you try to spite me on every occasion."

Used to her outbursts as I was, I just silently waited for her to end, stoically holding her gaze. 

"I just wished you had a little more of your father, Orlando. He would have been grateful of what I have done for you."

I bit my tongue to the blood to suppress any comment. He would never have been grateful for being robbed, thrown out of his own house to life above the stables, harassed at every opportunity yet unable to leave. Never in a million years he would have.

Abruptly, my mother turned around, asking Liv:

"Do you have any idea why he's doing this? How can he do this to me?"

Then, noticing my half-sister's slightly overdressed state, she added:

"Dear, you look... lovely..."

"No, I don't! It's too..."

"Official?", my Stepmother tried to help.

"Yes! Oh, you have to help me, mommy. *David* will be with the Senator, Mom, you know?"

'course she knew. That's been the reason for making such an enormous event out of so something that had never been a simple affair even in calm years. Gently pushing her daughter towards the door, she turned around again, addressing all staff in the kitchen. Which she counted me to be a part of, on good days.

"Make sure everything is prepared! I do not wish to see anything lacking at the table. And make sure the fireplaces are clean, Orlando. We're not living like the gypsies here. If you do not keep up your share of hat work at the estate, I do not see that I will be able to support you useless horse any longer. And I do not want to see you close to that mare anyway. Not within ten feet, you hear me?"

Ouch. That hurt.   
And Nicholas wasn't useless, not at all. He just didn't let her ride him, and that nettled Cate to no end.

"Yes, Ma'am", I said meekly, trying not to anger her more.

"Come on, Liv darling", she went on as she left the kitchen. "Let's hurry, I have to dress as well. What about the silk one?"

"Mom!", she shrilled in response. "That's blue! You can't honestly expect me to wear a *blue* gown in December?"

"No, darling, of course..."

Their voices trailed away into the great hall, and with a certain kind of relieve, the kitchen staff returned to their business.  
Rose came over to me, putting her hand on my shoulder, saying softly: 

"Don't take it too much to you heart, Orli. It's not your real mother, anyway."

I turned around to look at her, and the genuine sympathy I saw in her eyes soothed my aching heart. A bit, at least.

"I still have the wood outdoors, I have to go", I said, but Rose held me back.

"You've been working in the stables all morning already. Why don't you take an hour off?"

Looking around insecurely, I noticed everyone looking at me, most of them smiling with genuine affection.

"Be off, boy", our chauffeur Viggo said, "we'll cover you."

"You haven't been out with Nicholas since days", Rose suggested.

That would be a wonderful idea, and as long as mother was occupied with my sister's immensely extensive wardrobe, I would stand a chance of getting away with it.

*

Only minutes later, I was stealing my way out of the stables, leading Nicholas behind me with his bridle. My horse was still munching on the apple Rose had given me for him, and as soon as were into the forest, I knew no-one was able to see us from the mansion. 

I hadn't had the time to saddle him, but both of us were used to ride without, so I jumped on his back and gave him reins enough to let him run for quite a while, unbound, unrestrained.

Nicholas had been my father's gift on my sixteenth birthday, an almost completely white gelding, the most beautiful and kind creature I had ever met. During the years, the calm and friendly horse grew into quite an impressive animal, and also grew highly attached to his owner. We were best friends, Nicholas and I, and he didn't accept anyone else on his back except me. With saddle or without. 

Smiling grimly, I mused that my friendship with Nicholas was one of the few things my mother's lawyers couldn't take away from me. 

Though it was the reason that I still stayed here, after all I had to endure. For Cate only gave me as little support as she could get legally away with, and even for that bit she made me work in the garden, the stables, wherever. And that would never be enough to cover for the expenses that unavoidably came with having a horse – and I couldn't leave him with Cate, who'd just sell him, or rather send him directly to the slaughter. I would never give her the satisfaction of leaving Nicholas to her, another memory of my father she could obliterate. 

So I stayed, and endured. It wouldn't last forever, anyway.

Unknown to the prying eyes of my Stepmother, I had started to work as a delivery-boy for one of the local pizza-services, and I was stacking the money away to be able to move out and care for Nicholas myself. If I worked real hard, and didn't get ill, I would have the money together in, say, roughly eight years.

I could have cried.  
But a small hope is still better than no hope, my father had used to say, and so I hoped, and worked, eighteen hours a day, seven days a week.

Suddenly I noted that Nicholas came to a trotting halt, and I abandoned my brooding to see where he had carried me. Without great surprise, I noted that we had arrived at the old forest warden's lodge, that now served only as a shelter for some rarely used cars of my half-sister. And as my personal hide-out.

The attic of the wooden building was still mainly intact, and here it was that I hid the money I earned at Joey's, together with some personal belongings of worth I had managed to salvage before they started to 'disappear' out of my room above the stable. 

And also, it was here that my only other real friend besides Nicholas was waiting for me, at least during daylight hours.

"Hey Rosalie, how are you?", I asked as I climbed up the narrow ladder that led up to the lodges attic, smiling at the huge white owl sitting on one of the chests.

"Roo-hoo", she replied sleepily, blinking at me with graceful indignation.

"Oh Rosalie", I said, feeling a bit stupid at talking to an owl, but still better than confessing to a diary my stepmother might find one day, wasn't it? "What am I to do? I can't abandon Nicholas, and you. But Cate's really trying to make my life hell. She even started to get rid of everything that reminds her of father. Everything."

"Rooo..."

"I know, Rosalie, I know."

Moving my hand slowly towards the huge bird, I began to stroke its head, gently, as I had done so many times before. I know, wild birds never allow humans to get so close to them, let alone touch them, but she did. I know I got a lucky hand with all kinds of animals, and seeing her trust in me was very comforting. And the way she seemed to pay attention, yet didn't say one word did help me more than anyone of my stepmother's expensive therapists would have been able to.

"But I do not know if I can go one like this. Not much longer, anyway."

"Roo-hoooo..."

"You think it's gonna change?"

"Roooo..."

"Just a short while, and then all will be better? Oh Rosalie, I wish it would be. But there is no Prince in shining armor to come and rescue me, not even at a slim chance. I'd rather win in the lottery without having bought a ticket. But that would already help a lot."

"Roo-hoo-hoooo!", Rosalie exclaimed, and with a last disdainful look, left the attic through one of the numerous holes in the roof.

"A prince?", I yelled after her. "You're a hopeless romantic, Rosalie, you know that?"

\----

\- David -

"And this is my son David. He is back from school for Christmas." I somehow managed to force something resembling a polite smile onto my face. For the third time today I was surprised at how father made it sound as if he was happy that I was here and proud of me, when in fact he was still fuming inside. He really made a great politician, could lie most convincingly.

Home for Christmas, indeed. Only that I would not be going back to school as I had been thrown out. Had it only been a bit too much partying and too little studying they would have kept me. They don't like it but they tolerate as the parents pay lots of money to get rid of their kids. Life is serious after all and they try hard to make their wards understand that.. What a bullshit. Nobody believes that crap anyway. All of the boys there knew perfectly well, they would inherit more money one day than they could ever spend. But I was the only one who had to say it out loud. Disturbing the order of school. That was the official reason I was home now. I just been so fed up with the whole charade!

Now I wished somebody had warned me of Daddy's reaction. He was not amused at all. Should have known that a professional liar would not be proud of his son telling the truth to the world. Not that the whole argument about what rich kids should be forced to do had been really important to me anyway. I had just brought it up for the heck of it, but now dad was convinced I wanted to spend all of his money while he was still alive and never do anything productive ever.

So he had decided on a course of action. A rather fatal course of action. He was going to marry me. He had not yet decided to whom, but that was one of the reasons I was dragged along on this 'fund raising tour'. Looking for potential brides.

I am positive I told him about three years ago, that I am not into women. I don't remember his exact reply but it was something like 'that will pass, son, we all need to experiment'. Like being gay was an illness that would go away if one waited a bit.

Obviously he had now decided that it had passed and that being married would cure me of my... problems. He hadn't even really put a name to it. Our arguments over the past days had been outright weird. It was like we were in different rooms and I could hear what he said, but he couldn't hear my replies.

Still there seemed no way around getting married as he had made it really clear he would disinherit me if I didn't. I was already making plans on where to stash my wife while I went on enjoying my life. It's not like today you can't be married and still have a good time. Maybe be wife to be would even be wise enough to call for a divorce soon and go away with lots of Daddy's money. That would teach him.

Oh god, I used to be a happy romantic and now I was making plans for my divorce without even being married yet. I really was in deep shit.

The stupid giggling of a definitely female voice brought me back from my unpleasant future to my equally unpleasant present. I had missed the introduction of the daughter of the house but managed another polite smile, as she held out her hand. A handkiss. She wanted a handkiss. Was there no end to my suffering.

Thankfully this time Dominic came to my rescue, taking the hand of the girl and kissing it. She looked rather disappointed which did nothing to endear her to me but at least I was able to flee into the house now. The long, flowing gown she wore prevented her from fast pursuit.

A couple of minutes later we all sat in the spacious living room and father started working the Lady of the house for money for his charity organisation. He had explained to me at length why he was doing this. Why it was important to care for the people who were not as well of as yourself. I had handed two questions back to him. Why didn't said people go looking for a job and make a living on their own? And if they really needed the money so badly, why didn't Dad just pay the whole thing out of his own overflowing accounts? My private conclusion was, that he just did all this, because it was excepted of a senator to do so and that he didn't care more about starving children god knows where than I did.

At least I was safely seated between Dominic and Billy, out of reach of the hungry little minx that was the daughter of the house. She was doing a lot of smiling in my direction and I was frighteningly sure that she was the reason we were here. Another potential bride Dad wanted to check out.

I shot a pleading look at Mom but she was busy smiling herself. She had kept out of the whole marriage debate largely but ultimately she seemed to think it was a good idea to get me engaged - as she called it - as well. I was trapped.

"What do you think of her?" Dominic whispered and gestured in the direction of the girl, when she was for once not eyeing me like a hawk staring at a mouse. 

"I think she's better than the last one." Billy said on my other side. "But still rather scary."

I nodded. What would I have done without the two of them? They had been thrown out with me. 'Trio Infernal' we had been called at school and for good reasons. They were staying over for Christmas as their Dads had told them firmly they shouldn't show their faces until their mothers had calmed down a bit. At least they were not getting married of like some piece of price cattle.

"I think Dad wants to invite all the girls he thinks suitable for the New Years Ball." I said. "He says that will be my last chance to pick one. If I don't he will."

Dominic patted my shoulder in sympathy. "You could always just run away." he suggested, although he knew I never would. Still it was a comforting thought.

We watched the social dance between my parents and the Lady of the house unfold. It held a curious kind of grace but still was incredibly boring. At least it would be the last one for today. It took my Dad about two hours to get the amount of money he wanted and till the Lady had her invitation for the New Years Eve.

"Tell me, where is your son?" my father asked curiously, when we were already on the veranda again, saying our goodbyes. "I remember him being quite a bright boy."

"He is somewhat of a rascal." the Lady answered, sounding rather icy. "Always gets into trouble."

What a shame. I certainly would have enjoyed meeting him instead of...

Before I could finish the thought the daughter cornered me again. "It was such a pleasure meeting you." she piped, standing on her tiptoes and forcing a kiss onto my cheek. "I am looking so much forward to see you at the party."

"Yeah, me too." I heard myself say. Politeness really gets ingrained to a point where it gets frightening.

My father was beaming happily, the boy he had just asked after already forgotten.

I realised that I had really done enough to satisfy his need for a good son for today. 

"Me and the boys will go and have a bit of fun in town." I told him, when we went down to my parents' car and our motorcycles. "We'll see you later."

"You'll be home before midnight." he said in his sternest 'fatherly voice'.

Billy answered before I could say anything sarcastic. "Of course, sir, we'll take good care of him."

Yeah, sure, send the wolves to care for the lamb. But my father seemed satisfied with Billy's reassurance so not much later we were off to town to party away the dust that had gathered on us during the 'social afternoon'.

\----

\- Orlando -

Riding a horse through an abandoned, snow-covered forest at dawn might be considered romantic, but when it is early December, freezing like hell, and the only thing you are wearing is the uniform of a pizza-boy, romance is one of the last things that comes to your mind.

Right then, all I was thinking of was to get home before Cate noticed that me and Nicholas were gone, and before important parts of me froze off. 

I had sneaked out at midnight to get to my shift at Joey's, but Rose's bike, the one I usually used to get to town, was broken. Cursing, I had checked my options, only to find that the only way to get there in time without waking up the whole mansion was to take Nicholas. Neither me nor the horse were happy with that choice, but I was working at Joey's for him, so he could add his part just as well. 

Ever noticed that finding a parking for your car is hilariously easy compared to finding a place to park a horse for a few hours? Not to mention the remarks of my colleagues when I entered the pizzeria's garage with a horse trotting after me.

But I survived that just the way I had survived so many other things, and when my shift was over, the sun was already rising above the hills. Nicholas blinked at me in a way that told me he had been fed with far too many carrots and bread, but that he was rather happy with it. 

The fodder he got at home was, well, rather simple and carefully measured, to put it politely.

So there I was, riding through the forest that was the best shortcut to get to my family's mansion, still clad in the blue and red uniform of Joey's. I was even wearing that insufferable baseball-cap that came with the uniform, grateful for every bit of cloth I could wear. At least I had thought of taking some gloves with me when I left my place in a rush. 

With a wry grin I thought of the last evening, and the way my stepmother had found job after job to keep me busy all night. What had I done to her that she hated me that much? I surely had given her a chance when father brought her home, mere two years before he died. She had been rather nice, then, a bit reserved, though I had though we could at least become friends. But all that had changed with my father's death.

An unexpected sound woke me out of my thoughts. A loud groan, like a hurt animal, or a person in great pain.  
I halted Nicholas, and we both quieted up, listening, watching.

We had come to a place in the forest where the main road was rather close by, and it was there the ominous sounds came from. Also, headlights could be seen vaguely through the barren trees, and I heard a motor hum in the relative silence of the early morning. 

I was tired, I wanted nothing more than go home, maybe find another hour of sleep before I was called to duty again. But if it was an accident? Maybe they had hit a deer and needed help.

With a sigh, I jumped off Nicholas, loosely binding him to a low branch, telling him softly:

"I'll be right back, dear Nicholas. You'll soon be back in your stable."

And then I went off, jumping through the forest as silent as nimble as possible in my tired state. But I think I still did rather well, for I knew theses woods by heart. My father had often taken me out here when I was still a kid, riding, or walking. As often as possible, we did our fencing lessons in the forest, joking and laughing, or we went collecting mushrooms together. Usually, we either brought home so many we could never have eaten them in hundred years or not a single one at all. It had been a good time. 

I had to smile when I though of my father, his somewhat grave voice explaining to me that I had to learn how to wield a blade if ever I wanted to be accepted on a school of any quality acceptable for a young man with a future so bright and promising as mine. 

Yea. I've been employee of the month at Joey's pizza for thirteen month in a row by now. 

What a great life.

Sneaking close, I noticed motorbikes being parked besides the road, their drivers probably somewhere in the forest in front of me. The groans that had made me have a look at the scene had taken on a definite retching quality, and judging by the three very expensive motorbikes up on the road, I had quite a good idea of what to expect. But I still had to make sure no-one needed help.

So I tried to move as soundlessly as possible through the bushes that riddled the forest so close to the road, carefully trying to stay unseen by anyone who might be with the retching person on the ground.

"Gods, Dom", I heard a man's voice when I approached the scenery. "How much of that stuff did you drink?"

Peeping around a huge bush of Holly, I saw two young men in a clearing close to the road; one of them standing, the other one on his knees in front of a strangely bluish-brown puddle, steaming softly in the chill air. So the rich boys had had a little bit too much of the good life in town, I thought shaking my head. 

The standing one caught my eye, tall and blond as he was, and I couldn't help but smirk. He was wearing nothing but dark brown Chinos and a pale brown turtleneck that most advantageously shoved his lovely shoulders. 

He had tucked a pair of gloves into the rear pocket of his trousers, his jacket apparently lying underneath his sick companion, his helmet probably being one of those dangling at the motorbike's handlebars. 

He looked rather sober compared to his companion, and seemed to be in his twenties. 

Startling green eyes that apparently laughed often.

He looked nice.

I almost whacked myself to get out of my daydream. What was I doing? Swooning over a boy I didn't know, sitting behind a bush early in the morning, freezing my butt off, when I had to be back at work in ninety minutes?   
But then again, this guy made me smile. And I hadn't been smiling genuinely for quite a long time. It was such a nice gesture of him to offer his jacket to his companion who was still puking his guts out. 

What had that guy been drinking, anyway?

Suddenly, the driver of the third bike appeared on the clearing, zipping up the trousers of his gaudy blue-and-yellow biking suit. Dark haired, a head shorter than the standing one, he seemed to me just the average, irrelevant rich boy.

"So, how' our sick boy doing, Davie?"

So my cute one's name was David, apparently. Nice name for a nice boy.

"Nothing new", he said without taking his hands out of his pockets, impatiently stepping from one foot to the other. The third guy walked over to the sick one, watching him with concern. Then, as he noticed the irritating colour of the liquid his companion disgorged in surprising amounts, he turned around to David, asking with slight disgust:

"What the hell's he been drinking?"

"Curacao", the blond one replied laconically.

"That much?"

David just shrugged, walking up and down a bit to keep him warm.

They were sweet, in a way. And I liked the way David's muscled body filled the fabric of his pullover, the way he walked with his hands in his pockets. Might be nice to have my hands in his pockets as well, I mused, banning all further thought of that kind from my mind immediately.

What was I thinking? He probably was the son of one of the rich, respectable families here in the area, and I was just the pizza-boy. And a boy, making the whole thing even worse. No way I would even get close to him.  
Not in a hundred years.

"Hey, David"; the third one said after observing their slowly recovering companion for a while. "Do you think he learned not to drink too much?" He swayed slightly, obviously not completely sober himself.

"Why should he have?", David answered, slight annoyance in his voice.

"We literally had to carry him onto his bike. It'll be years we can go into that club again and not hear this story a hundred times over."

"So?"

"Why can't we have him puke in his helmet or something? That'll be a lesson for him tomorrow."

"Billy!"

"Why not? We could at least put his boots in..."

"You're sick, man!"

"No, he's sick.", Billy replied awkwardly. 

Both David and Billy were now standing next to their friend, both keeping their hands in their pockets, both staring at the pathetic figure on the ground.

"We could flatten one of his tires! That would sure sober him up if he'd to push his bike - "

"Billy, for heaven's sake!"

I decided I didn't like that Billy. 

I can't remember on how I got the impression I had to do something, but I blame it on being very tired and not able of very rational thought that I found myself preparing a nice, big snowball that eventually should end up in Billy's face.

In his very surprised face.

Don't ask me, right then it seemed very funny.

So I left my protective cover just a bit more, threw that ball, ready to duck away again within an instant.  
But, unfortunately, my aim seemed to have gone just like my caution, and not only did I miss Billy, of all things I didn't want to do, I managed to hit David squarely in his face.

And, shocked by this unexpected turn of events, forgot to cover again.

"There!", Billy yelled immediately, pointing at me like a compass and sprinting off like a dog to catch me.

FUCK!

So I turned around, running away like a deer myself, hoping that maybe, with a bit of luck, I was fitter and could outrun them. Or, even better, could use a track so difficult to follow that they would give up.

Jumping over fallen trees, dodging low branches, I realised I could not run straight on, for I would lead them directly back to Nicholas, and if they even saw me with that horse, it would only be a matter of days that they would have tracked it down to belong to our mansion.

And then God have mercy on me, for Cate surely would not. 

So I decided to run a long turn, maybe losing my pursuers in the process - but I was mistaken. Both seemed to be rather agile, and though Billy cursed and yelled at every single plant in his way, he kept up quite well.

But after a short time, I lost sight of them, and stopped to catch my breath and listen if they were still around.

Yes, they were, and apparently they had split up and now tried to corner me between them. Damn!  
The only way I could run now was out onto the open fields, where they would not loose track of me for ages.   
Fuck, fuck, FUCK!

With a shrug, I decided that the only way to hide would be to climb up in one of the huge fir-trees, hoping the glaring light of the rising sun would shelter me in the relative darkness of the snow-covered branches.

I hadn't climbed a tree for ages, but it worked quite perfectly. Soon, I was up among the branched, staring down at the bright-white patch of snow underneath me. 

The white patch of snow clearly showing my footprints.

Damn! I definitely was too tired.

Only moments later, David walked up to the tree-trunk, breathing heavily with exertion, looking around, searching for me.

He looked good, in the golden light of morning, falling almost horizontally into the forest. His cheeks flushed, his chest heaving, he made me think of quite a different situation where I would like to see him that exhausted because of me. Naughty boy, I scolded myself as suddenly, David looked up, straight into my eyes.

"Hey, Billy!", he yelled, waving at the other man somewhere out of my field of sight. "He's here!"

David sheltered his eyes from the sunlight, blinking up to me in irritation.

"It's a pizza-boy...", he stated in bewilderment as Billy walked up to him.

"What?!"

Instead of an answer, David just pointed up, and seconds later Billy was staring up at me with the same surprise as his friend.

Maybe it wasn't such a wise idea to wear a uniform with your employer's name written all over it in screaming letters. 

"Hey, who are you; what are you doing there?"

What an exclusively stupid question.

"I'm a squirrel", I answered sarcastically. "Searching for breakfast."

"Get down here!", the blond one ordered.

"What about you getting up here?", I replied, rather sure that he would not find the few places he could use as support on the first branchless meters.

"You're quite a cute squirrel, you know?"

Before I could realise David actually had made me a compliment, I yelled down:

"Fuck you!"

"A cute and naughty little squirrel, it seems."

"Get lost!" Was it just me or was this the strangest conversation I ever had?

"I'll shake you off your tree, if you don't come down!"

"Be my guest."

He wouldn't be able to shake the tree at all, not unless he carried a pocket-chainsaw on him right now.  
Which, probably, he didn't.

"We'll beat you black and blue!", Billy growled up the tree. "As soon as you get down here!"

Yea, sure. How on earth could a boy as cute as David hang out with such a moron?

"Hey squirrel, what's your name?"

I definitely was too tired. Now I even imagined David trying to hit on me. 

Deciding I had to get out of this, I dared to climb up a few branches more, even though they got uncomfortably thin already. But I was rewarded.

"Hey, he's gone!", David exclaimed softly after a while.

I'm not gone, silly, you just can't see me anymore. Maybe he wasn't that sober after all.

"Who's gone?"

"The squirrel. Let's go. I don't want to stand here all day."

"All right", Billy said disappointedly as they started to walk away. "But I didn't see any squirrel - OUCH! Fuck! Why'd you whack me? * Ouch!"

Listening to their voices trailing away, I leaned back to the stump of the tree, wondering at how closely I had passed a catastrophe of most painful proportions. I would still be in time for work, though it probably would only be enough time left to shower and get dressed. No sleep tonight.

With a sigh, I started to climb down again, smiling at the image of David I apparently could not get out of my mind.  
'A cute squirrel', he had called me.   
Probably we would never meet again, but sometimes a dream is all you need to get you through the day, isn't it?

Humming a tiny, happy tune, I jogged back to Nicholas, galloping away to be at the stables before anybody could miss us.


	2. Chapter 2

\- David -

What a weird morning this had turned out to be. First I got to watch Dom retching out the most vile blue stuff humanity should never have decided to drink, then I got hit by a snowball square in the face, chased what appeared to be a pizza-boy through the wintry forest and at last came to watch my quarry disappear into a tree.

Maybe if Billy hadn't scared him off, I would have been able to convince the cute little squirrel to come down. I had not been able to make out much of him but it had certainly looked promising.

In our less then sober state it took Billy and me a while and a lot of cursing to find our way back to Dominic, who was sitting on his bike now, looking better than both of us together. Small wonder. He was rid of all the alcohol while ours still coursed through our body, making Billy look decidedly ill and making me feel like a monumental headache was heading my way.

"Where have you been?" Dom asked, when we worked our way out of the underbrush. 

Why where all the trees suddenly trying to jump in my way?

"Chasing a pizza-boy." Billy explained and got Dom's trademark 'you are an idiot'-look.

"A pizza-boy. Sure. Should have thought of that myself." He looked to me for help but I just shrugged.

"There really was a pizza-boy throwing snowballs at us." I said and even as I said it I realized how unbelievable it sounded.

Dominic seemed to think so, too. "I'd better get you two home before you start chasing pink elephants." he announced. "You two sure you can still ride your bikes?"

"If I recall correctly it was you who needed to stop." Billy retorted hotly. He always got aggressive when he had had to much beer. Should stick with wine. Made him cheerful and funny.

"Well, at least I don't see pizza-boys." Dom commented sarcastically.

"There really was..."

"Guys, guys, can we just go home?" I interrupted Billy, before they could get into a fight. "I am freezing my butt off. And Dom, can you give me back my jacket?"

On the ride home I found my thought drifting back to the boy in the tree again and again. Why had he thrown that snowball at me? To tease me? To gain my attention? The thought was flattering but sadly rather unlikely. If he had been trying to hit on me he would not have run and refused to come down.

Why was I thinking of him anyway? All I had seen of him was a foot dangling from the high branches - granted, a very cute, delicately small foot - and glimpses of his pizza-boy uniform. Mentally I cursed myself for not paying any closer attention. I should at least have looked a bit closer at that uniform to see where he worked. Then it would have been simple to find him. Maybe he would consider a date...?

My brain definitely swam in way to much alcohol. A date? With a pizza-boy who was throwing snowballs at me? A pizza-boy I had no idea where to find? And even if I had been bright enough to remember the pizza delivery he was working for I had no way of recognizing him. And shouldn't I been thinking about my upcoming marriage?

Maybe that was the reason I was suddenly so desperately looking for a male mate. Maybe that would stop my father. I had been solo now for almost half a year, since I had broken up with my last boyfriend. 

A smile crept onto my face. Now those had been good times... Going out with mister football-superhero, quarterback of the school-team. We had both known we were just screwing around so none of us had been to upset when we decided we had had enough.

I was so lost in thought I almost missed the driveway to our family estates. I should really stop driving drunk. In the next couple of years.

My fond memories evaporated the moment we parked our bikes in front of the house. My father was standing on the verandah watching us, his expression stormy. Oh, right. We had been supposed to be home by midnight. And now it was what? About nine in the morning?

"Where have you been?" my father asked, before we even had the chance to come up onto the verandah.

"We got delayed." Billy answered, to fast for my sluggish brain to stop him.

"We were chasing a squirrel." I added, trying for some humor.

My father didn't think it was funny and neither did Billy.

"There was no squirrel!" he insisted again. Dumbass.

Dom looked from me to Billy to my father. "Sorry, sir." he said, definitely the most intelligent of the three of us at the moment. "We lost track of time. We came home as quickly as possible, when we realized how late it was already."

The expression on my fathers face said clearly he didn't believe a word we said. But he at least allowed us to pass into the warm house.

At least he didn't give me that 'we have been worried for you'-crap. He opted for another sermon.

"I thought we had talked about responsibility just recently." he launched into his speech. I endured for almost five minutes. Then my throbbing head got the better of my patience.

"Dad, can we please speak about that later? I really need to sleep now."

He was speechless with exasperation. We used the chance and fled to our respective rooms.

For some reason the last thing I thought about before finally dropping into the depth of sleep was that cute little squirrel foot again.

\----

\- Orlando -

Great.   
It was the morning of Christmas eve, and all my misbegotten family could think of were their outfits for the upcoming New Year's Eve Ball at the Senator's place. Wasn't Christmas supposed to be more important, a celebration of family and love?

On a second thought, maybe we truly didn't have THAT much to celebrate, anyway.

Right then, I was busy cleaning the main oven in the kitchen, trying to get it presentable again after too long a time of neglect. Not that it necessary to clean it, especially not today, but Cate had decided that it had to be done now, for she wanted her roast prepared in a clean oven. And that it had to be done by me, for it was a task she though to be too grimy for the kitchen staff. Lovely, as always.

But at least, those chores kept me at least partially distracted from the gnawing anger I felt inside. My stepmother had once again cut down Nicholas' rations. Was she trying to starve him? That would be the most elegant way to get rid of him without outright shooting him. How could she? I had never done anything to her, not even as she took away all that should have been mine. 

Why did she hate me so much?

Frustrated, I threw away the rags I was using to scrub the oven, grimly staring at my reflection in one of the doors of the cupboard opposite me. My arms speckled with tiny, grey spots, my face streaked with brown grime I looked more like some homeless trash than the rightful owner of the house, and the deep shadows underneath my eyes didn't help at all.

I could have spat at my image. I was working like a log, and I didn't get anywhere.

Whereas my dear Stepmother and that stupid twit that called herself my sister didn't work at all, yet spent my father's money like there was no tomorrow. My money, actually.

Just this morning, they had sent Viggo out into town to buy just some more stuff they would need for their costumes on New Year's Eve. It was supposed to be a Grand Masque, a magnificent affair, and they went quite a way to ensure that their outfits would outshine anybody at the show. Or at least outprice anybody else's. 

Vigorously stuffing my rag back into its bucket of warm water, I cleaned it, then took some more of the abrasive and went back into the oven. 

The amounts of fabric they had ordered Viggo to buy still made my head swirl. Fourty feet of silk, twenty-five of silken gauze, almost sixty of silver-threaded velvet. And of course it had to be real silver. 

That was frightening. I bet I could have fed Nicholas for at least a month on a mere foot of that velvet. And they were already busy with three seamstresses upstairs since breakfast. At least my anger gave me enough vigor to attack the crusted grime inside the oven with lasting ferocity. 

And later, so they had declared to poor Viggo, he would have to drive them back into town to buy some jewelry. Only some necklaces and some few feet of lace. Why the hell did they need SEVERAL necklaces? 

That waste made me fume, even if it was technically their money they were spending, and the chance that ever I would be able to regain my rightful possessions was close to nil. I hated waste.

I think all people who do not have a single cent to spare hate wastefulness.

At least Viggo had been kind, once again. After he had stoically noted where he was supposed to buy what and what it should cost at LEAST, he had politely waited until the two of them had gone off to torture their seamstresses, he had turned to me, asking:

"And, Orlando, what about you? Anything I should get you in town?"

"Of course", I had answered snottily. "Just a new Armani suit, some golden cufflinks and a new Ferrari. My old one's still last season, you know?"

But he just smiled at me, sadly, and I had felt bad for barking at him for such a kind gesture.

"You know I do not have any money to spend, Viggo", I added apologetically. "And I know that you haven't got any bucks to spare, either. So what's the point?"

"I just... I don't know." Viggo honestly seemed sorry. "I just wanted to be nice. Isn't there really anything I could buy? It is Christmas, after all... "

I felt tears welling up in my eyes, for this year I hadn't been able to buy even symbolic presents for him and Rose and Sean and all the other's of the staff that were so kind to me. Just a little stone out of the forest for each of them, with a poem written around, wrapped in some second-hand wrappings. Not anything worth of mention, but all I could afford if ever I wanted to get out of here. I had even written the poems myself, for I was loathing to go into the library where Cate would surely find me and accuse me of loitering.

So I had walked over to Viggo with a sigh, saying:

"Bring me whatever first comes across your way, and it'll be perfect for me." 

And I hugged him, quickly adding: 

"But don't spend any money on it, promise?"

He just nodded, and smiled.   
Without them, I realized, I would have given up long ago.

That thought still made me smile when I started to wipe the solved grime out of the oven, and when Viggo finally returned, I was almost finished.

Pile after pile, he unloaded things out of the car; bags, boxes of all shapes and sizes, bolts of cloth and sacks of probably highly expensive knick-knack. 

I tried to busy myself with the oven to prevent me from getting all ballistic about these things. And of course, my stepmother showed up only moments later, sifting through the piles, searching for this and that, commenting on the quality of the fabric or the lack thereof. And, like a strangely independent shadow of her Liv turned up, clad in pieces of paper and silk over a unadorned straight black gown, a seamstress rushing after her in a state only very short of panic. 

Now both ladies of the house were occupied with commenting on their latest acquisitions, and Viggo used this apparently unobserved moment to come over to me and said in a hushed voice:

"Here, this is for you."

Surprised, I looked up, only to see him handing me a triplet of hazelnuts, grown together on one twig, huge and brown and shiny.

"It literally dropped in my lap", he started to explain, and I carefully took the little twig, staring at it in wonder. "I was stopping in the forest on my way back, to have a smoke. And then, suddenly, a birds' nest dropped out of a tree directly in front of my feet, and all that was inside were these."

"That is - ", I began, still speechless about the first real gift I had received in ages, as suddenly my Stepmother popped up between us, hissing:

"What is that?"

In reflex, I hid the nuts behind my back.

"What's this, what have you given him?"

Apparently, she suspected us stealing from her property. Or even worse, keeping her away from something she would want to have if only she knew what it was.

"Ma'am", Viggo started. "It's really nothing, it's - "

"If it's nothing, then why is he hiding it?"

Finally, that pest of a sister noticed something interesting happening in my corner, and showed up as well.

"What's he hiding, Mom?", she asked innocently.

"Show it!", Cate barked, and I knew that there was no point in disobeying any longer. Maybe she suspected drugs or something like that.

So I slowly took forth the triplet, and surprised myself with how hard it was for me to disclose my new-won treasure. And it was precious to me, for if nothing else, it was a symbol of someone who cared for me.

"Nuts?", my stepmother asked slightly disappointed. "Nothing else?"

"They were a gift for me", I exclaimed, defending the idealistic value of them with more ardor than I would have liked.

But she didn't notice my energetic outburst, instead watching the Hazelnuts intently, as if still searching for a hidden value we had tried to deprive her of. But of course, she didn't find anything.

"What a silly gift", she finally said, showing the nuts to Liv as if presenting evidence of my inferiority. And Liv, of course, nodded consentingly. 

"Weird. Like for a squirrel...", Cate added, and I had to fight myself not to burst into a wide smile. Maybe it's a fitting gift for a squirrel, but I was a cute squirrel, and I was happy with it. And, best of all, that was a memory she could not take away from me. 

"Ah well," my stepmother went on, throwing me the nuts, already losing interest. "let him keep it. Now where have those silver buttons gone again?"

Taking in a deep breath, I watched her return to the table, searching the piles, and hardly realized that Liv was still standing next to me.

"Merry Christmas, brother dear", she hissed spitefully in my direction before turning her back on me most dramatically and gliding back to her mother.

'Fuck you!', I thought, her contempt unable to diminish the warm glow I held in my heart. 'All the money in the world and all the bile you can come up with will never be able to get you what I already have: friends who care for you and a dream to warm your heart. I have been gifted more than you will ever be; you stupid bitch!'

\----

\- David - 

The silence around the dinner table was deafening while the first course was served. Father was busy glaring at me, Dom and Billy and - strangely also - Mom. At least he didn't glare at the servants who really hadn't done anything in this event, which I had come to call 'Catastrophe Christmas'.

The day had started of bad with Mom and Dad going to Church as every year. For some reason - I am not really sure anymore if it really was their intention - they forgot to tell me and went on their own. Now I am not a pious person but going to Church on Christmas Eve is a family tradition I for once do not loath. It reminds me of happier times when I was still small and I always loved the giant Christmas tree they had in Church and all the hushed calm holiness of the whole thing.

So me and Dom and Billy - not being completely sober yet although it was just 12pm - decided to go to Church on our own. Which meant we arrived late with noisy motorcycles, marched into Church with our biking outfits, sat down where we found some space and frightened half of the parish and angered the other half with our display.

It was horrible. I am sure I had never felt that unwelcome in a church before.

Father didn't say a word when we got home. Just disappeared into the stables, took a horse and then took off. Mother send me one of those heartwrenchingly hurt looks and then disappeared into her study, firmly closing the door behind me letting me know that she did not want to see me.

So we made do with drinking some more and when father finally returned, cooled down a bit, to talk to me, I was all heated up and angry. They probably heard us shouting at each other three estates away...

Still the facts remained in place: I would have to marry or leave my family behind.

And I had even lost the little support I might have hoped for from Mom.

At least tomorrow I would get a chance to get rid of some of my penned up aggressions. Dad had invited some of his old school friends and their respective sons over. The old men were going to drink expensive whiskey and talk about the 'good old times'. We young ones would have a little fencing tournament.  
Well, maybe not that great a chance to get rid of aggression. With all the noble rules and gestures fencing was about. Maybe I should instead head for a bar on the rough side of town and have a little brawl.

I stared down at my plate, feeling nausea rise from my stomach. To much wine, to little food. I did not feel like eating at all. Especially not in this company. The food looked nice enough, a beautifully arranged salad with nuts and raspberries. But the smell was making me ill. Still I forced down two forks of it, then gently pushed it away and let the servants take it back.

Father's glare got even more drilling, but he didn't say a word until the next course had arrived.

"I have decided what you are going to wear on New Years Eve." he announced. I could have sworn his voice was gleeful with malice.

My answer came faster than I was thinking. "What do you mean, YOU have decided?" We were definitely heading for another argument.

"Well, as you have proven again and again that you can not be trusted to take care of yourself I will do it for you." This time there definitely was malice. Never thought my father were capable of sounding so... evil.

"Oh, and what have to settled on? Hmm... let me see, how would I dress up my unloved son...? But wait, I forgot, this one is about selling me to a bride, right? So how about chains, a loincloth and whipmarks? Showing off the merchandise?"

I saw mother wince at that comment. Obviously struck a little bit too close to home. But father just looked at me with condescending pity.

"No, as most of the girls will probably come as princesses to impress you - although that seems to be completely wasted on an ungrateful bastard like you are - you will wear a matching costume. That of a prince."

Under any other circumstances I might have even liked that idea. I did usually enjoy costume parties and dancing and all that. But not when I was my hide being carried to the marriage market. A prince. That really was the height of humiliation.

We stared at each other across the table in silent rage on my part and silent disgust on his part. He really hated me, I was sure. How else could he do this to me?

"And you think I will be a good, little prince?"

"You better be. Do not forget," he reminded me icily, "if you don't pick a bride that evening, I will."

I felt a tremble of utter fury run threw my body. I knew I was only inches away from hitting my own father. So I did the only sensible thing, got up, calmly put my napkin down on the table and left.

\----

\- Orlando -

Oh well, it had not been the worst Christmas I've ever had.

I could remember many happier occasions, but it could easily have been worse.

All the staff who was not with their respective families had dinner in the kitchen of the mansion yesterday, on Christmas Eve, and it had been a rather merry crew, despite all the little troubles my Stepmother had managed to bring up for the whole past week. 

I could hardly think Cate and Liv had a better time, up in the dining room together with some peculiar relatives of theirs. Probably they were just boring each other to death with stories told a hundred times or bitching at each other. 

But neither the cheerful atmosphere in the kitchen nor the thought of my Stepmother having a miserable time as well could prevent me from remembering what I had lost. Neither Viggo's clumsy jokes nor the lovely, self-knitted scarf Rose gave me as a present could stop me from missing my parents, my real parents. 

Once or twice, I had to bite down tears when the images of the three of us, Father, my real mother and me hiding in front of the fireplace, waiting for Santa Claus to appear, grew just too strong to ignore. 

It had been a sad Christmas Eve, but my friends among the staff did usher me through the worst moments with deliberate cheerfulness, and I survived without sustaining any major harm.   
Well, I survived.

Until this morning, Cate emerged from her bedroom with a mood that was simply indescribable. Nervous like a caged animal she had been pacing through the place, barking at everybody for no reason, threatening staff and furniture alike. I only heard her hiss at Rose, scolding her for being such a useless person, and when she threw something breakable at poor Sean, I just fled.

I couldn't bear her antic's anymore, couldn't stand to be meek and polite and submissive all the time if I wanted to keep Nicholas alive. She would turn completely ballistic when she noticed me missing, probably using this as a reason for not paying me this month, but I just had to leave. She would have found a way not to pay me anyway, and this way I had at least a few hours of rest and a chance to escape her.

So I grabbed something to eat, saddled Nicholas and we were off into the woods before anyone could stop us. 

Riding through the chill winter forest helped a lot. The frosty air calmed my racing mind, giving my sore heart the time it needed to heal at least a superficially. And being outdoors with Nicholas around always was a good thing. 

Last time it happened, I had met 'David', I remembered with a smile. And this morning was just as cool, as calm as the one he had called me 'a cute squirrel'. 

At some places, larger patches of mist still lingered, very slowly defeated by the remote December sun. It was a beautiful morning, calm and serene, the glittering snow and the drifting banks of mist in the early morning light creating an eerie, almost magical scenery.

 

So when we stopped at my hideout at the lodge again, I felt refreshed; not happy, but well able to face whatever would come my way once I returned home. But not now. 

So I climbed up to the attic, surprised to find Rosalie awake and unusually excited.

"Roo-roo!", she greeted me, hopping along one of the larger crates that were stored in the attic.

"Merry Christmas to you as well, Rosalie", I said, unsure of what to make of her uncommon behavior. "What's wrong, dear?"

Instead of an answer, she just stopped hopping and stared at me with her huge, grey eyes.

"Here, I brought you a present", I went on, putting a small piece of cheese next to her, some leftover from Cate's dinner last night. But she ignored it completely, instead flapping over onto the old cupboard where I was hoarding my little treasures. 

"Hey, Rosalie, I thought you liked cheese?", I grumbled with disappointment. Usually, she would never have ignored what I had learned to be her favorite treat. Then, with a sight, I added: 

"Maybe not today. But here, have a look, this is the scarf Rose made for me!"

"Ack!"

"Alright, don't like that one as well... But what about this?", I asked, fumbling in the depth of my pockets to present her the hazelnuts that Viggo had found, surprised to see them still clinging together in a neat triplet on their twig despite the rough treatment.

"Roooooh..."

"You like them? Me too. It's a fitting gift for a squirrel."

Once more, I couldn't suppress a fond smile at the thought of the young man, blinking up my tree in irritation.

"They remind me of David."

Then, suddenly, without any detectable cause, one of the nuts broke off the twig I held in my hand, falling down to the wooden planks that formed the floor as if in slow motion. A twang of regret shot through me, sadness at the first of my Christmas gifts already breaking apart.

The hazelnut hit the ground with an tock, clearly audible in the silence of the forest, and rolled a bit further before laying still.

"Roo Roo Roo!", Rosalie said, bobbing her round head in something I would have called close to hysteria if I hadn't been talking of an owl.

"Rosalie, what's wrong with you?", I asked, now definitely worried about her. Looking down in search of the nut, I froze and blinked in surprise when I noticed a tiny, white thing sticking out of a crack in the nutshell.

So I carefully stored the remaining nuts in the drawer and picked up the broken one, carefully examining what looked like a piece of gleaming white cloth, sticking out of the deep brown shell.

"Was it that you were so excited about?", I asked my owl, who was now sitting on the cupboard, blinking at me nervously yet otherwise motionless. "What is this? Not one of those funny things glued together with condoms inside, I hope..."

But I somehow knew that this here was not a novelty item.

So I tried to prick the shell open, curious to see what was hidden inside - and jumped back with a yell of panic as the nut broke apart, bursting into what seemed to be a small pile of white clothes.

"Fucking heavens....", I whispered when the first shock calmed down, staring at the small heap on the floor in utter disbelief.

There was no logical explanation all this could have fitted into a single nutshell! Never, ever. 

And I was already accepting that it might be possible to stack incredible amounts of fabric into a tiny container, but I was staring at a pile of cloth neatly crowned by a fencing mask and an epée. This was impossible!

"Roo, Roo, Roo!"

Rosalie's delighted comment made me turn around.

"You knew that, did you?"

"Roooo...."

"What the fuck is going on here?"

I slowly moved over and knelt down next to the things on the ground, picking up the mask first, then the epée, examining them. I just didn't believe this! This was first quality stuff, better than anything I had ever seen, and the lack of any names or brands indicated that they were custom made.

"Is this for me?", I asked Rosalie, so fuddled in my head by what I had just witnessed that I wouldn't have been surprised if she had answered.

"Rooh."

"But what am I supposed to do with this? I'll never go fencing in my life again!"

"Roo!"

"I will? Rosalie, you're nuts."

Oh, and what about me, then? After all, I saw things popping out of nutshells, and was talking to animals. And they even seemed to answer. Apparently my sanity was going to hell in a handcart.

Carefully, I unfolded the clothes in front of me, unsurprised at the fact that I was looking at a brand-new, perfectly tailored fencing suit. And I was eerily convinced that it would fit me like a second skin. 

This was madness.

With irritation, I noticed the colors of some club or school that had been embroidered onto the softly gleaming material of the suit. No printed logo or a badge, real embroidery. 

It sure looked as if it could be the colors of one of the weird schools my father had wanted me to go to, once I was old enough.

"I have never been at one of these schools, Rosalie", I explained almost apologetically, as if trying not to accept the unbelievable, still holding the soft suit clenched in my hands. "I'm the pizza-boy, remember?"

"Roohoo!", she exclaimed pointedly. "Roo-roo-roo!"

"I'm not?"

"Roo."

I was going mad, la-la-la, I was going mad....

"So you think I should wear this?"

"Roo."

"But what for? And when?"

"Roo-hoo."

"Now?"

"Roo."

Whatever it might have indicated about my mental sanity - the suit did fit like a glove, and it was the smoothest and most beautiful thing I had ever seen. And I think it is pointless to mention that both the mask and the epée seemed to have been made just for me.

Anyway, minutes later, I was out on Nicholas again, equipped to go fencing in finest array, feeling mad like a gutter-rat but strangely happy.

\----

\- David - 

"You're disqualified! How can you possibly do that to an honorable opponent?!" The referee was glaring at me in righteous fury. Seemed a lot of people did that lately.

Exasperated I pulled of my fencing mask. "I just shoved him a bit!" I grumbled. Of course there was no use arguing. Disqualified is disqualified. And I shouldn't have shoved him. No touching in the honorable art of fencing. Just standing stiff like a stick, moving to rules equally stiff.

Fencing should be like a dance, flowing back and forth, constant movement with a healthy dose of physical contact. But the times when it had been like that were past. It had turned from a dance into an artform and therefore really was not my type of sports anymore. How much I would have loved to fight an opponent like the teacher I had had when I had been a teenager. He had been from France. He had taught me how it REALLY was to be done. And in the eyes of my father had forever spoiled me for the fine art of 'American Fencing'. What a farce.

My opponent picked himself off the ground, pulled off his own mask and glared at me as well. Not that I had expected anything less.

I just shrugged, didn't apologize - bringing shocked gasp to the lips of the onlookers - and turned away. Still grumbling to myself I went over to a tree stump, brushed some snow off and sat down to watch the rest of the tournament. Maybe it was good that I was not in it anymore. With my current mood I might have hurt somebody seriously.

They continued their ridiculous poking and I watched in subdued agony.

At first I didn't even notice him. But suddenly there was a white-clad figure among them that I was reasonably sure had not been there a moment ago. His first words confirmed that.

"Sorry, I'm late." he announced in a voice so cheerful and warm it lit up the whole clearing where the tournament was held. And boy did he look great in his outfit. There wasn't one ounce of fat on his body, all lean and trim and perfectly showed off by the tight fencing clothes. He was already wearing his mask, so I was not sure whose son he was but the embroidery on his outfit clearly showed that he was 'one of us'.

He moved with the grace of a dancer, even now that he was just taking his stance opposite of his first opponent, but in contrast to myself he managed to incorporate his fluid movement into the rigid style of fencing that was required. It was a marvel to watch. The poor boy he was fighting didn't stand a chance. And when the referee called out his victory I found myself actually cheering him. 

\----

\- Orlando -

I didn't know what I was doing there, and even less why I did it, but it sure was fun as hell. 

Well, actually, I knew quite well what I was doing. Standing at the border of a lake somewhere a few miles off our grounds, probably on private property, taking part in a private epée tournament. 

All the boys here wore the same badges as on my suit, but I was somewhat sure no-one of them was wearing an outfit remotely as fitting and comfortable as mine. Or as expensive, for that matter.

It was a magic scenery. 

Close to twenty young men standing around a cleared space near the shoreline, all clad in white, the fine mist of their breath rising in the almost crystalline air. The crunching sounds of their feet on the little snow here were the only sounds, the silence only interrupted by the swishing sounds of weapons and the occasional, yelled commands of whoever was doing the referee for the running match.

It had been those commands that had told me where to head for after I had been simply riding straight on for a while. I had 'parked' Nicholas somewhere a bit off in the forest, for whoever was having fun here surely did not expect one of his guests to arrive on a horse. 

Sneaking up to the clamor of the tournament, I had noticed that several of the young men were wearing their masks down even when not engaged, and in the completely gaga mood I was in, I just lowered my mask, walked over to the group as if it were the most natural thing in the world, saying simply:

"Sorry, I'm late."

And suddenly, I was part of the show. 

For the first time since my Stepmother had practically disowned me I was accepted in a group without sneers or stupid questions, and it was fun. OK, the spell would only last as long as I was not forced to lift my mask, but what the fuck.

And then, I saw him. 

David.

Sitting on a nearby tree-stump, his mask in his lap, looking bored as hell. I liked the way his wide shoulders showed in the figure-hugging suit he wore, the way his features were masculine and friendly at the same time.

But I couldn't continue my droolings, for I was called for my first match.

Suddenly, I found myself back in a situation I hadn't been in for years: facing an opponent in white, his epée raised in front of his face, his feet in first position.

"Ready?", I heard the referee ask, and as in reflex, my own epée went up before my face, my feet rearranged themselves to 'première', and I nodded briefly.

"En garde!", the referee yelled, and I had to blink in bewilderment at how naturally all movements returned to my body. Before I could really think about what I did, I was moving; back, parry, forth, 'seconde', parry 'troisième', riposte, parry, thrust -

And suddenly, it was over, my opponent bowing rigidly, again his epée raised before him, and I returned his greeting in kind. 

I had won. Hardly understanding what I had just done, I went back among the others, noticing vaguely that they were staring at me. But my attention was fixed on the next duel, and I soon realized why I could stand a chance even though I had not been training for years, since the day I had to sell my equipment.

'To learn something is not necessarily to understand something, Orlando", my father had once said after I had thrown a frustrated tantrum at his strange expectations to my fencing. "To achieve any level of quality in any craft, you'll have to know without thinking, to decide without planning. And this, my son, you can only do once your heart has learned the lesson, not only your brain."

I had hated him for his cryptic answer then, but here on the frozen shore of this lake on Christmas Morning, it made sense. They were all moving so stiffly, not untrained, but abruptly, as if they were, well, counting the steps in their heads, running calculations on strategy at the same time.

They probably knew more maneuvers than I did, but they had only learned them by heart, not getting the focal point that it was not about maneuvers, but about fighting. Surely they were all able to recite long lists of advantages and disadvantages of any move they knew, in my eyes, this was beside the point: Once a duel had started, each movement unavoidably named the next one, and as there was no choice after all, the only thing one could do right was to stay in the flow, to drop out of it was to lose.

It was like... dancing.

Your movements themselves were unimportant, they had to fit the music, your partner, your mood. All else came naturally.

And I soon got enough opportunity to test my theory, for I was called for a match again, and this time, I could observe myself. Yes, they definitely were counting. Not naming the steps, but running a mental checklist.   
What an effort for such a poor result. 

I enjoyed myself tremendously.

Especially as I noticed that David was cheering each of my victories, booing loudly whenever anyone dared to make an attempt at scoring against me. His support pushed me up even more, and soon I had to concentrate more on keeping the rules in mind than on fighting my opponent. My heart was pounding in my chest, my body so pushed I could hardly go on fencing within the rigid rules, wanted to go freestyle, running, jumping, improvising.

Swashbuckling, as my mother had called it with glee on the rare occasions she watched us.

But far too soon, it was over.  
I had won. Not a single match, but the tournament.   
A bit gaga, but way cool. 

Politely, my last victory was applauded, and apparently, I was expected to take off my mask. I kept it on, in blatant disregard of etiquette.

Slightly sad, I noted that I had not been fighting against David, who was now standing besides his stump, cheering me wildly. 

Not that I wasn't flattered beyond words about his enthusiasm, but what did he see in me? To him, I must be looking just like any of his companions, a bit thin, maybe.

When I noticed him walking over to me, I had to suppress a sudden wish to run away. Wasn't it him that very strange coincidences had conspired me to meet here? Then why was I afraid, all of a sudden?

David walked up to me, smiling brightly, and I was suddenly very happy of wearing that mask, for confronted so directly with his dazzling charm, I was unable to suppress a massive blush that surely would have been more than inappropriate in my situation.

So the blond man bowed politely in acknowledgment of my victory, taking my hand and raising it for all to see.

"Is there anybody who does not agree with declaring this man champion of this year's tournament?", he asked loudly, his voice beautiful, resonant. 

Consensual silence answered him, and he turned around to me again, holding up a gleaming golden ring in his other hand.

"This signet ring has been donated by my father to the Winner of today's tournament, and it is my joy to give it to you.", he declared, adding in a lower voice: "And you have bloody deserved it."

"Well", I heard myself say just as softly, still hidden behind my mask. "There are other things I might wish of you instead of a ring, but not today."

What had I said? Was I completely mad? Was I completely, fucking insane?

Oh yes, I forgot. 

I was.

David blinked at me with an unreadable expression, and before he could make up his mind if he was to beat the crap out of me on spot or ignore what I had just said, I chose to act first. Pulling my hand out of his, strangely sad at parting contact, I declared just as loudly as David had before:

"Unfortunately, I have to refuse, Sir."

Loud murmur arose among the others, and David looked at me in cutest irritation.

"Sir, I am not winner of this tournament, for I have not been fighting each of you."

Slowly, they must notice that I'm kind of weird, but that's just the beginning.

"I have not yet had the opportunity to challenge our host", I said, questioningly turning around to David.

"He's been disqualified!", someone else yelled, and David added causticly:

"Yeah. They were afraid I might hurt somebody."

But his eyes were smiling.   
At me.

"I challenge you, Sir!", I announced, stepping back from him, my heart jumping with joy as I saw his grin widen to reveal his brilliantly white teeth.

"You cannot challenge him!", that someone exclaimed in irritation, but all were beginning to step back as David readied his mask.

"I accept your challenge, Sir!", David replied, the formal answer brimming with joy.

"You cannot accept his challenge, you've been - "

"Fuck you!", my beautiful opponent cut off that most annoying person, lowering his mask, signalizing ready to fight.

And before anybody could comment any further on the proper or improper form of our duel, I yelled:

"En Garde!"

\----

\- David - 

He was fast. Incredibly fast and nimble. But I had known that even before our match had started as I had watched him beat all the others. I had known I could not match his speed so I would have to make up that lack with more strength. And I was also fairly certain my knowledge of fencing moves was more extensive. Although that was well countered by his abundance of talent. It would have been an even match.

But I had forgotten to take into account how the proximity of a male body - so extremely well proportioned and moving with a fluid grace that mesmerized - would effect me.

It was fun to fight him, fun to jump and run and shove and use all the surrounding landscape as a means to win. I even tried to lure him onto the ice of the lake, but he nimbly avoided that move, as so many others.

But the longer the fight wore on the more I found myself not looking for an opening in his defense but adoring his skill, his movement - quite frankly drooling over his perfect body. What would I have given to see his face. He must be flushed with exertion. As it was I had to content myself with imagining it, distracting me further from the match. To watch his chest heaving was bringing pictures of him panting in an entirely different sort of fight to my mind.

So I was not really all that surprised when I suddenly found my epée flying from my hand and the point of his at my throat. That was of course not the way to end an 'American Fencing'-Match. But it was the perfect way to end what we had been doing.

I spread my arms wide, backing away slowly. "I yield, sir." I announced, grinning widely under my mask.

He brought his epée up to his face once more and then bowed slightly. "I accept your surrender, sir." he answered.

Suddenly all the others were crowding close to congratulate him, the referee offering the ring again. This time he accepted graciously.

I myself was busy fighting of the companionable mocking of the others. I tried to get rid of them as politely as possible. All I really wanted, was to see this fighter without his mask. But when I finally had pushed my way out of their circle, I didn't see my mysterious opponent anywhere.

"Oh, he was here just a moment ago." was the answer from everyone I asked. He had disappeared as strangely as he had come. Disappeared without a trace and I didn't even know his name.


	3. Chapter 3

\- David -

Outside an incredibly bright, cheerful winter morning was dawning. The sun reflected off the untouched snow, filling the last day of the year with light.

It was eight in the morning, I was wide awake, completely sober and didn't even have a shred of a hangover. Which meant I had nothing whatsoever to distract me from the fact that tonight my freedom would end. Tonight would be the great 'sell the prince'-market. And everybody was coming to get a piece of me. Dad had even convinced some of his friends from Europe to come over and bring their daughters.

I sat up in my bed, rubbing my face, and tried desperately to hang on to the shred of hope my mother had managed to evoke in me yesterday.

The week between Christmas and New Years Eve had passed in icy silence between me and my parents. The whole household had been busy preparing for the 'grand affair', but somehow all that had passed me by. The only thing that I had been required to do was try on the costume they had devised for me.

I hate to admit it, but it was not THAT bad. They hadn't even forced me into tights instead choosing tightly fitting leather leggings. A frilly but reasonable doublet, feathered hat and knee-high boots completed the outfit and although I would never be caught saying so out loud I did look rather striking in it.

Dom and Billy had not gotten away that easily. As my father had announced gleefully - a prince needs a horse. So he had acquired one of those horrible two-person horse costumes. They had both balked at the idea of actually wearing it. But they didn't have more choice than I had if they didn't want to go back to their own furious parents. And it was only one evening after all. They were still trying to decide who was going to be the front of the horse and who the backside. I would have laughed if it hadn't been so depressing.

Yesterday my mother had finally relented and asked me if I would like to go for a little walk in the snow-white forest. I had gratefully agreed. To be enemies with father - I was used to that. But her constant anger had hurt deeply. Her opinion DID count for me and I hated it when I made her upset.

For the most part we had just walked in silence. I would have loved to complain about Dad again, but I already knew what her answer would be. That both of us were equally stubborn and just made each other unhappy. And hurt her with our anger. She was right, of course. But that still didn't give Dad the right to ruin my life.

So I was rather surprised when she brought up the subject herself.

"You really worry too much about this." she told me, when we had been almost back to the mansion. "How do you know there will not be that special someone at the party who is meant for you?"

I had drawn breath to argue, to tell her again, that I didn't want a wife... more precisely a woman, but she had just patted my arm reassuringly.

"Why don't you just keep your eyes open and wait and see. Or you might miss the chance to dance with the possible love of your life. Trust your mother on this, dear, nothing happens without a purpose."

Then she had sounded as if she knew exactly what she was talking about, like she somehow knew more about this than I did. Now the idea, that there might actually be a cute boy to fall in love with at the party sounded like a distant dream. And father wouldn't allow that anyway, would he? But maybe mother would...

Again I wished for a hangover. To be so clear had major disadvantaged. Like being able to think about your bleak future.

But yesterday evening I really hadn't felt like partying so Dom and Billy had gone off to town on their own and I had stayed behind to go to bed early. It had seemed like a good idea then.

Now what was I going to do with this beautiful morning of New Years Eve? I was definitely too awake to just stay in bed and wait for the inevitable party like a docile cow waiting for the slaughter.

But to walk around the house, surveying the preparations for my execution didn't sound very appealing either. So I had to get away.

For once I actually had a good idea. In winter the lake near the main house of the country club was frozen and cleared for skating. There wouldn't be many people there this early. A perfect opportunity to escape for a while and enjoy the wonderful morning without distraction. An opportunity to forget for two or three hours. Pretend I was still a teenager with his whole life before him.

Dear heavens, I sounded as if I was sixty, not twenty-three. Better get out of here fast.

\----

\- Orlando -

I was confused, very confused.

I was out of work.

It was the morning of New Year's Eve, Cate and Liv were out shopping, and as the main party would not be hosted at our place this year, there was nothing left to prepare.

My stepmother was so taken with the Senator's ball tonight that she had even forgotten to make my life miserable for the last days. And so, I had some spare time on my own. 

What utterly unheard-of circumstances.

But of course, I used the occasion to take Nicholas out for an extended ride in the sunny morning, enjoying the mild weather and lovely light. And, as usual, I ended up paying a visit to Rosalie at the lodge.

And as I had almost feared, she was in THAT kind of mood again.

"Roo-roo-roohoo!", she pointed out, again excitedly hopping up and down on the cupboard.

"Rosalie, please. I'm not going to waste one of the nuts today. Who knows if I won't need it far more in times to come?"

But in a way, I was tempted to do so anyway. Picking the heavy golden ring I had won at the tournament out of the drawer I had stored it in, turning it around in my hand, I mused if I would meet David again if I did use one of these magic little thingamabobs. 

"Rooooh...", my owl growled impatiently.

"Are you sure?"

"Roo."

With a sigh, I picked up the twig with the remaining two hazelnuts, still a bit unsure, but already so excited what I was about to find inside.

"Really?"

"ROO!"

"Okay, okay..."

Boy, Rosalie definitely was convinced it had to be NOW. What if I hadn't decided to come here today in the first place? Would she have come to the mansion to get me? 

Well, I shouldn't dwell on that too long. Gave me the headaches, for if I honestly was expecting a dashing outfit in a hazelnut, an owl trying to arrange dates for me suddenly wasn't that improbable an idea anymore. 

My life definitely had taken a heavy turn to the weird side, I wondered; feeling a bit queasy for I had no idea at all where this all was heading.

Well, on a second thought, it was heading in David's direction, so I was more than inclined to take the risks I had to face on the way.

Smiling at the memory of his confused face as he noticed I had disappeared from the tournament, I broke the second nut off the twig. A white suit definitely is a perfect thing to wear if you're tying to hide in a snowy forest.   
Poor David. But he was terribly cute when confused.

Closing my eyes, as if making a wish, I took the nut and dropped it over my shoulder, smiling in excitement as I heard the rustle of cloth and a surprisingly heavy impact on the wooden floor. 

I swirled around, and whatever I had expected to see, it surely had not included a pair of snow-white skates.

Even though it happened to me the second time already, I was still irritated that so much stuff could fit into such a small thing, and went to examine the other things that had turned up so magically in my possession.

Dark brown trousers, another pair of shoes for the way to wherever, a turtlenecked pullover of the softest, almost feathery white wool I had ever seen and, strangely enough, a small, leather wallet.

Now that was something interesting. Opening the wallet, I found it empty except for a small, golden card - a premium member's card of our local country-club, complete with my name and picture ingrained into the material.

Not even father had had one, in so far as I could remember from the few times he had taken me there.

So apparently, I was expected to go skating at the local country-club. If David would be there? And since when there was a skating-track at the Club? Must have build one lately...

Shrugging off the doubts I started to undress, shivering in the cold air. Wondering about such details was quite a waste of time when confronted with, well, magic. I had never really believed in things like this, and now it was happening right in my life. But it was somewhat justified, I decided when I put on the dark trousers. I had suffered my share of unbelievable meanness already, and it was only right that now something incredibly good happened to me. Was about time.

Fascinated by the incredible soft material of the pullover, I silently wished for a mirror. Again, the clothes fit like a second skin, probably showing as much of my body as possible without being outright naked. Only the sleeves seemed to be a bit too long, passing well over my palms, but that probably was intended.

I didn't even try on the skates to see if they would fit. They would be perfect, I knew already, as flawless and precious as everything I obtained this way.

And just for completeness: I didn't even blink when I noticed Nicholas having been cleaned and brushed, wearing a bridle and saddle as beautiful and subtly expensive as I had ever seen and surely never owned.

There even was a bag for the skates, and feeling a bit dazed, we set off for the half-hour ride to the Club.

*

"Could I please have your card, Sir?", the uniformed clerk at the Club's foyer asked me politely yet pointedly.

Wordlessly handing him the tiny golden thing, I watched the people around me in silent amazement. For the last years I had been used to be stared at for my run-down looks, most of the visitor's at our place mistaking me for the garden-boy. But here, people stared at me in, well, I don't know. Maybe they wondered why they had never noticed such a handsome boy around before. And that I had my own card to enter their exalted world at my age definitely added to their curiosity. 

"Thank you, Sir", the clerk said as he handed me back the card. "Anything special we should be arranging for your horse as long as you stay here?"

"Sorry?" 

I had handed Nicholas' reigns to a member of staff not even a minute ago, asking him to wait there until I had found a way to arrange accommodation for him, hopefully not in a garage as that night at Joey's.  
But the clerk just looked at the discreetly hidden monitor in his desk, saying:

"Your horse, Sir. Nicholas."

"Well, yes, he will need a place to stay while I'm here - "

"We have already been informed that you would arrive on horseback, and we allowed ourselves to arrange for accommodation. Would you like to check on him if everything is all right, Sir?"

"No, no, I'm sure he's in good care." 

Way cool. So it's going to be a pleasant morning for Nicholas as well.

"But, as you ask me, he might be somewhat hungry. Would you mind to take care he is fed well?"

"Of course, Sir. Anything else?"

"Well, I heard there was a nice possibility to go skating here..."

"Sir, we have cleared the swan's lake for skating this year, right below the main house, you'll find the way signed out if you take the bar's exit to the gardens. If you need anything, please inform the staff at the pavilion."

"Thank you, ... Jeff.", I said after a short glance on the clerk's nameplate and was surprised by his beaming smile I got in return.

"Thanks, Sir, and have a nice stay, Sir", 'Jeff' replied in genuine affection. 

Probably he was considered some kind of very useful furniture by the other guests of this establishment. But still being a pizza-boy at heart, it was quite difficult for me not to treat him as real person, I noted with a happy smile.

Tipping my imaginary hat to Jeff, I left the lobby and crossed the bar to exit on the building's other side.   
And stopped dead in my tracks as the breathtaking view I had from the main house hit me.

Located on a long slope, the place looked down into the valley, lawns, trees and the golf-course equally covered by a thin, glittering layer of snow, broken only by the dark brown paths that led here and there. Down at the foot of the hill I was standing on, the mirror-like surface of the lake glistened in the brilliant sun, already making my feet itch to run and get my skates on.

On the center of the ice, a large wrought-iron pavilion had been erected, white fabric between stark black art-nouveau ornaments. Tiny, fitting tables and chairs had been placed underneath the white canopy, and a small matching pavilion at the lake's shore apparently offered the matching refreshments.  
It looked lovely. 

And very inviting.

Only a few people were around at this relatively early hour of the day, and when I arrived at the benches that had been prepared at the shore for guests to change their shoes, only a couple and their two kids were on the ice, merrily trying to get their youngest to feel comfortable on the uncommon ground.

And David was there.

Somewhat grumpily, his hands behind his back, he made his rounds, circling the empty pavilion at the center again and again. 

So my charming boy had a gloomy morning today, I mused. Well, I was about to change that. Probably he was feeling hopeless about tonight, but he at least still had a choice, unlike some others, I thought grimly as I put on my shoes, immediately regretting my rashness. He had probably been given just as much of a real choice as I had been with Nicholas, so I should be a bit more sympathetic.

But that shouldn't be very difficult, I mused, especially not considering how exceedingly handsome he looked this morning. David wore dark blue denims, some pale green long-sleeved T-shirt and a matching denim vest, it's lambskin lining showing at the hems. He looked striking, and was completely oblivious of this fact, which made him all the more adorable. 

His blond hair was shining in the sun, and I even imagined to see the green sparkle of his eyes whenever he came close to the shore. But he didn't notice anything apart from the occasional human obstacle on the ice.

"Thank you, Christopher", I said to the guy who took my shoes to store them while I was on the ice, inwardly beaming at his happy-but-confused smile I got in return. I loved this game.

I went onto the ice, and soon was turning my circles as smoothly as David. Seems that quite a lot of old skills is coming back to me, I thought, feeling in a most splendid mood. Well, now let's see how we can gain David's attention. 

Apparently, just being on the ice with him didn't work.   
Skating close to him, around him, besides him - no reaction whatsoever. 

Well, I thought, if subtlety doesn't work, try for obviousness. So I started to skate right in front of David's feet, carefully blocking each of his attempts to pass me by and kept on doing so for quite a while.

Only when I was sure that by now he must have been tugged out of his almost autistic state by my most annoying behavior, I decided to act. In an exceedingly daring maneuver compared to my limited skills, I turned around, skating backwards for a while, searching for his eyes. 

And when our looks met, his emerald eyes sparkled with mirth, and his delicious lips curved up in the most electrifying little smirk I had ever seen. 

I could have jumped him right on the spot.

\----

\- David - 

I had really just wanted to skate in peace for a while. Of course there had been the quite real possibility that one of my 'brides to be' would show up at the country club as well, but I was counting on the fact that they would need all day to prepare for the party.

What I had not counted on was this exceedingly cute boy that made it a point to gain my attention and hold it. 

His feet were what I noticed first, as they were right in front of me and he made sure I could not overlook them. They were very small and delicate, even in the skates. How could any grown man have feet as sweet as that?

And what was wrong with me for suddenly paying that much attention to feet? Was I developing a fetish now? First the little squirrel in the tree and now this... Yeah, what exactly. Maybe I should have a look at the boy attached to the feet.

So I let my gaze travel upward along long lean legs in a tight brown slags, a torso hidden in the furriest white pullover I had ever come across to a mouth smiling friendly till I came to a stop when I met his equally friendly brown eyes.

Only then did I realize that he was skating backwards to be able to look at me and that made me smile as well. What a wonderful way to be brought out of your brooding.

For a long moment we smiled at each other, then he made a turn and came to skate next to me. 

And he was most definitely eyeing me with more than a healthy dose of companionable interest. I had never been very good at judging people, but this one was most assuredly hitting on me in the most subtle and elegant way I had ever encountered.

We took a few more simple turns around the pavilion, but then recklessness gripped me. It was my last day of freedom after all. My last chance to flirt, even if it wouldn't amount to anything.

So I started skating a bit faster, circling him while he kept his course around the pavilion. His grin grew wider and he started to veer off to one side, making me work harder to keep my circling up. Both of us upped the speed again and again, till we were more than a bit breathless and chasing each other around the lake relentlessly.

I did notice that he was not the most experienced of skaters, so I was prepared when he lost his balance and caught him before he could fall. I held him just a moment too long, just a long moment to feel his warm body beneath his clothes. Then I put him onto his feet again, grinning.

"Would you care for a cup of coffee?" I asked, hoping that I had not overstepped any invisible boundary. 

His bright smile alleviated my fears immediately. "Sure. If you make it a hot chocolate for me?"

Should have known that a sweet thing like him would drink something sweet as well. "Please be my guest." I said, inviting him over to the pavilion with a grand gesture as if I owned the place.

I waited till one of the waiters on skates had taken my order before I leaned back and studied my guest more closely. He was good-looking, no doubt about that, and he didn't seem to know he was. He watched his surroundings with a shy interest that made just that more likable. He managed to look like all this was a wonderful novelty, making him exceedingly happy. And he somehow transferred some of his wonder to me, even if it was he I was marveling at.

When he realized I had been watching him he blushed for the shortest of moments and then beamed at me in obvious joy and I found myself smiling back just as happily. He liked me watching him! Now if that wasn't something to be happy about!

"Do you come here often?" I started some small talk that I hoped would bring up some information about this cute boy.

He shook his head. "No, I haven't been here in years."

"Me too. I have been at boarding school, but now it doesn't look like I will go back." I looked around the frozen lake. "But they did arrange the whole thing rather nicely, didn't they?"

My new friend nodded. "So you are finished with school?" he asked.

What was I supposed to say to that? Probably just the truth. "No, they kicked me out."

"Oh." His smile didn't waver. "Is it because of that, that you were so gloomy when I first saw you?"

I had looked gloomy? Thinking about the way I had felt doing endless circles around the pavilion I had to admit that this was probably true. Although now I was feeling rather happy.

"No." I answered his question truthfully. "I've been having trouble with my parents."   
What an understatement.

"I know the feeling. Is it about money?" he said, looking genuinely sympathetic.

"Only partly. It's mainly about responsibility, character flaws on my part and a craving for control on my father's part."

He smiled unhappily, as if he knew exactly what I was talking about. "Sounds lovely..."

The waiter brought my coffee and his chocolate. For a while we were both stirring sugar into our respective hot drinks. I eyed the crusty little cookie that accompanied my coffee with a healthy dose of suspicion. I had always hated these things.

"Would you like my cookie?" I asked.

He grinned. "Most certainly not." He put his own cookie on his spoon and flicked it away. We both watched it spin helplessly across the ice and I offered him mine to send it the same way. Then we both watched each other for a while and warmed our hands on the steaming cups.

"Will you be at the party tonight?" I asked, hope mingling with the dreaded knowledge that a boy as good-looking as he would have something more important to do.

"What party?"

Now look at that. There were people who did not know about my upcoming execution. How had that happened? Where had he been hiding? Or maybe his household just didn't have a girl the right age.

"Well, the 'grand affair'!" I spread my arms wide to encompass the whole country club. "I thought everybody around here was going."

"Oh, that party!" he shrugged. "I don't think so, will you go?"

I snorted unhappily. "I have to. I'm the first prize."

His eyes went wide. "You're THAT David?"

"Yes, sadly, yes."

"I'm sorry. Isn't there at least one bearable girl?"

I eyed him curiously. "Well... if I was into girls, there might be a chance..."

He actually looked extremely satisfied with that answer. So I had not mistaken his interest in me.

"And your father has no idea about this?" he asked.

"He has. He doesn't care. Thinks getting married will do a whole lot of good for my character, making me a responsible, loving, caring husband."

"Loving, caring heterosexual husband?"

"Exactly." I realized I was actually grinning.

"Ouch. That's dire."

I shrugged. "I'm planning on a quick divorce."

He shook his head thoughtfully. "Parents somehow manage to show a surprising lack of reasonability these days."

"Yeah." I smiled at him as charmingly as I possibly could. "So what about you? Any girlfriend or boyfriend?"

"No." He took a polite sip of his chocolate. "The only one I might be interested in will get married quite soon. And I wouldn't be able to marry him anyway."

My heart made a painful somersault in my chest and landed happily bouncing up and down. "Really? That's bad. And why would anybody refuse to marry such a cute boy as you are?" I asked, now flirting in earnest.

"Money? Family matters?"

"What kind of reasons are that? I am sure I would do anything to win the heart of a boy like you."

He blushed slightly. "That's sweet of you." There was a strange mixture of tentative love and sadness in his eyes and I found myself gently taking his hand and holding it.

\----

\- Orlando -

Oh heavens, he was sweet!

All this flirting on his side made me want to jump up and run a few rounds just to calm my racing heart. And I had to fight a blush every other second. I could have squeaked of joy, happy as I was.

He was definitely interested in me, and didn't mind me being a boy, and he was so sweet and lovely and, and...   
He was holding my hand.

I could have cried at this soft, gentle gesture of affection, so much had I been craving any loving human touch. But I just took a deep breath, calming myself, and stared at his hand gently covering mine.

"So", he asked, his warm voice darker and sweeter than the chocolate in front of me. "Will you be coming?"

No! I mustn't. Cate would be there, and Liv. It would just end up in tears on all sides, and more trouble than this could ever be worth. And it wouldn't work out anyway with me and David. However I might look to him right now, I'm merely a pizza-boy, not even remotely a match for a senator's son even if there weren't that little problem of my gender. 

I just had to say 'no'.

"I... might."

Now that's been a definite 'no'. Very reasonable. But these eyes...

"Just 'might'...?"

Please, David, don't be so sweet! I'm just trying to safe both of us from trouble...

"I - I haven't got an invitation", I said in a weak attempt to get out of this with doing more damage than I had already done.

"I invite you!", David exclaimed cheerfully. He really was serious about this.

"You really think your dad will accept any guests you invite when he doesn't even let you decide who you're going to marry?"

"Yeah, probably. So what. I'll just steal one out of his desk. He'll never notice."

I'm lost.   
I can't accept his invitation and not show up at his party without ruining the little bit of romance that there was between the two of us.

"Now I only need to know you address, so I know where to send the invitation."

No, I was wrong. NOW I'm lost.

"Please, David, I can't tell you my address..."

"Why not?"

"It's..." Now what was I supposed to say here? The truth? Probably not.

"I just can't. It'll just end up in trouble."

David just looked at me in slightly disappointed confusion, understandably so as I was just showing a rather rejective secrecy for someone being invited to a second date.

"Can't you just deposit it at the entrance?"

Now what was that? I wasn't going to show up there, anyway. Why was I fanning his hopes?

"But I would still need to know your name, then...", David said with the sweetest shy smirk.

Oh fuck, this was not getting any better.

"I can't tell you my name. Please accept that."

"What's so dangerous about your name?"

"David, I just can't", I said pleadingly, fully conscious of how weird I must have been sounding in his ears.

"Can't you at least give me ANY name?"

Before I could stop myself, I heard myself say:

"I could give you A name..."

What the bloody fuck was I doing there? I should leave as soon as possible before I just fucked up my whole life even more than it was already. 

But David was sitting there across the table, still holding my hand, his face glowing in renewed hope, and I knew I couldn't pull back anymore.

"The name is Delphine de Lancré. She's... I'm staying at her place."

My mother? I was giving him the fucking name of my MOTHER? 

Suddenly, my lack of self-control started to frighten me. 

I had to go. NOW.

"I don't know anyone of that name living here in the area...", David said with a voice mixing both irritation and intrigue, not even remotely letting go of my hand.

"If it were easy, I could have given you my name in the first place." I looked at our hands at the table, saying far more sternly than I had wished for:

"I think I should go now."

But this bloody, fucking sweet bastard didn't even think of letting go of my hand. I was beginning to panic, and I wasn't sure how long I could keep calm before I would bolt.

"You can't just disappear like that, without even giving me a name to call the person I will be dreaming of tonight. Who are you? Don't you please just leave me here with a riddle..."

Well, now that's a good question. Who was I?

A well-off son of an esteemed family hanging out at the country-club? Or rather the snow-ball throwing pizza-boy? What about the dashing fencer who would be able to beat the crap out of him in whatever match he could come up with? 

But the rich son was long dead, the fencer just an apparition. And I loathed the pizza-boy more than I would have ever wanted me to believe.

So what was I to answer him? What?

"I can only give you another riddle", I heard myself say. Oh perfect! How pathetically melodramatic!

But my sweet David just looked at me in sad anticipation, as if he really accepted that I was doing all this because I did not see any other way. How I loathed I would never be the man to be at his side.

"If you can solve my riddle, I will tell you my name."

And I knew I would. If he could see all the persons I was within me, and still could love me, there was no reason not to tell him. So I began, not really knowing where the lines came from, but dearly hoping he would get my point.

"Wearing a blue uniform with red marks,  
running through the forest like a squirrel in search of food,  
but the pizza-boy,   
he is not.

A shining suit as white as snow,  
fencing like a musketeer,   
but a student,  
he is not.

A pullover as soft as a duckling's feathers,  
skating like a love-sick fool,  
but a member of the country-club,  
he is not.

Now who could that be?"

Fear and hope were clashing in my heart when I dared to look at David's face again, but there was only confusion to be found in the green depths of his eyes.

"What the fuck are you talking of?"

Okay...  
So that's what dying was supposed to feel like.

I ripped my hand away from his, fighting tears that were welling up violently.

"I'll better go now", I said, more sobbing than anything else, abruptly turning around, completely ignoring the fact that I toppled my chair in the process, leaving a completely flabbergasted David behind.

I had to make sense of all this, had to explain this to him, but first of all, I had to get away from here, from him. NOW.

But within seconds, he was next to me again, trying to get hold of my arm, saying:

"Now what's wrong? Don't leave. Please!"

But I refused to answer, and luckily, one of the waiter's stopped him to figure out who was to pay for the drinks, giving me the opportunity to gain some lead.

Most gratefully, I noted that Christopher had observed my sudden wish to leave, already waiting at the shore with my shoes, and with his help, I was able to get out of my skates before David could get hold of me again. I didn't bother to put on my shoes again and was running up the slope to the main building as I heard David after me:

"PLEASE! Don't leave! Beautiful, troubled, mysterious boy! Please!"

But I was just running, trying to get away from this man who made my head spin, made my resolution turn to jelly and filled my heart with more joy than I would ever have believed possible. I just needed some time to sort out my overflowing heart, but I needed it now! 

Couldn't he just accept that?

Slipping on a patch of snow on a steeper piece of the path, I lost one of the skates, but I couldn't have cared less.  
Why the fuck hadn't he been able to see what I was trying to tell him with this riddle? Why wasn't he able to see who I really was, even if I hardly knew an answer to that?

And, most important of all, why did I have to love him so terribly when our love had so little chances?

At the entrance, Nicholas was already waiting, probably thanks to some invisible service of the house, and without once turning around to see if my loved David was still following me, I galloped out of the place like running for my life.

And I was crying all the way back to our mansion.


	4. Chapter 4

\- David -

I slowly took off my motorcycle helmet and looked at the tall mansion before me. I was pretty sure I had been here only a couple of days before, when I had been doing the rounds with father on his fund raising tour, but I couldn't recall who had greeted us at the door. One thing I knew for sure, though, my mysterious pretty skater had not been among them.

"You sure it's this place?" Billy asked sullenly. He looked like death warmed over and probably felt like it as well.

Serves him right for getting drunk every single night, I thought and then had to grin. Had one morning of skating changed me so much that I already looked down on my drinking buddies? Shouldn't I feel at least a bit of compassion.

"My mom said so." I answered him and thought back on the strange conversation I had had with my mother only an hour ago.

I had come home from the country club to find the house in an uproar. My father had concluded from absence, that I had made a run for it and had threatened to call the police to bring me back. After torturing Dom and Billy - who had just come back from their nightly tour of the local clubs- for information of my whereabouts.

They had all been rather surprised and more than a bit embarrassed at their own behavior, when I walked in. It had been a sight to remember, to see my father retreating to his smoking room, mumbling something about important business. Maybe it was not so bad to stay sober and bright after all.

Now if I could only find my mysterious skating partner. Suddenly the whole party/wedding problem had receded to insignificance compared to the problem of finding this boy who had completely enchanted me. All I could concentrate on was seeing that sad smile again and maybe this time making him laugh.

At had taken my mom only a couple of moments to realize what was going on. She had quickly ushered everybody out of the living room and sat me down next to her.

"So? Who is it?" she asked, curiously looking at the single skate I still clutched as if it was the greatest treasure in all the world.

"I don't know." I answered her, feeling like clinging to her and crying. "He wouldn't even tell me his name."

If she reacted in any way to the fact, that it was a 'he' not a 'she' I was referring to I didn't notice.

"Oh dear..." She drew me against her breast and cuddled me just long enough to make me feel squirmish.

"He lost this skate." I told her. Now that really sounded foolish. Like I was the prince in Cinderella. What was I supposed to do now? Go around the neighborhood, asking all the boys the right age to try on a skate? Ridiculous! And I knew what he looked like so I wouldn't need to have him pull on the blasted thing anyway. But he had run away from me. So the chances were good he wouldn't want to see me, right? Then why had he been flirting with my all the time? What the hell was wrong with the kid?!

"Didn't he tell you anything about himself?" mother asked sensibly.

"Well..." There was something he had mentioned. "He said he lives at the house of ' Delphine de Lancré'. Do you know who that is?"

The eyebrows of mom rose to meet her hairline. "Yes, she was a good friend of mine. But that was very long ago."

"Was?"

"She died almost twenty years ago."

I felt icy cold close around my heart. So my only lead was useless. But why had he told me that name then?

"She used to live close to here. Maybe your mysterious boy was just talking about the house." my mother suggested and I kissed her.

"Mom, I love you!" I exclaimed and jumped up.

"Where are you going, dear?" she asked, laughing.

"You said I should keep my eyes open and I did just that! Now I'll not let my luck slip away. Father can scream and scratch all he wants. I think, I'm in love!" And with that I ran to find Billy and Dom to drag them along on my expedition.

And now I was here at the house, wondering how exactly I was going to find my cute-footed dreamboy. And if this even was the right place.

Before I could worry anymore the front door flew open and two women raced down the steps. I didn't recognize the older one but the young girl made my stomach churn. I did remember that little minx!

"Oh Davie! What a wonderful surprise!" she shouted, only halfway over to where we had stopped our bikes. "What brings you here this morning?"

I forced another friendly smile to my face. She certainly wouldn't like my reason for being here.

"Ma'am." I greeted the older woman politely. "I am looked for a boy who seems to live here. I don't know what his name is, but he has short curly black hair, is about as tall as me, slim, with pretty small feet..."

The lady's face darkened immediately. To a truly frightening extend. And the girl looked as if I had hit here with a fish. "And what would you want with this boy?" the lady asked icily.

"Well... I met him skating this morning and he forgot one of his skates and I would like to give it back." I answered carefully, taking the skate out of one of my bike-bags.

Both women stared at it as if it was a snake. "That is hardly possible." the lady said. "He is at school in Europe so you can hardly have met him this morning."

What?! What was this charade supposed to mean? I mean, I had his skate as proof so what the hell was she talking about?

"Of course he was there!" I exclaimed angrily.

"Do you call me a liar?!"

"No... I..." I was feeling really confused now. Maybe he didn't want to see me now and had told them so? I tried to breath deeply.

"Look, please just tell him that I really enjoyed this morning and am looking very forward to seeing him tonight, okay?" I tried again more politely.

If possible at all her features darkened even more. She looked like she would spit venom any moment and tried to grab the skate from me but I quickly pulled it out of reach.

"If he wants it back, he'll have to come get it." I told her, grinning now and tugged the back into the bag. I decided quickly that I had had enough of these weird people for one afternoon. I would see them again at the party anyway. So I didn't give her a chance to say more and instead pulled the helmet back on.

"See you later!" I shouted in the direction of the house in hope that he WOULD show up. And if not, I would come again and find him. No matter what anybody thought of that. As long as he didn't himself tell me to get lost, he wouldn't be rid of me.

\----

\- Orlando -

I had been just about to walk over to the main building from the stables, a bag full of Cate's golf-clubs in my arms, as I saw him arrive. David came here, on his motorbike, with his friends, and not for a single moment I wondered what he was doing here.

He was looking for me.

And of course, was running directly into the arms of my cursed stepmother. Why did he come here? Hadn't I been explicit enough in telling him that I did NOT want him to come to my place, that it would just only end up in trouble if he knew anything about me?

Sure, I thought to myself, that was why you did give him your late mother's name in the first place.

Fuck!

Without thinking, I hid back into the stables, clinging to the golf clubs as if my life depended on them. I was lost. He would talk to Cate, she would tell him that I'm just some penniless sucker showing off as her late husband's son, and he would be jolly amused, perhaps even angered, and be off for good. Even if I showed up at the party tonight, there was still a good chance I would be thrown out, beaten or whatever.

Why, of all the things in the world, did he have to come here? 

I peeped through one of the dirty windows of the stable to see what happened, and was rewarded with the sight of my incredible stepsister harassing my David, Cate watching the scenery in calm concentration.

Oh gods, she would kill me, if she noticed I had been at the country club! And of course she would learn of it, for right now David took a bright, white skate out of one of his bags, presenting it as if this would explain everything. 

If Cate understood anything of the things David told her, she didn't show a sign, but the flashing look of Liv in the direction of the stable were more than I needed to tell me that I was in the deepest shit of my life.

Without any further reflection, I was off to my room in the attic of the stables, a low, narrow thing, but all I could call home these days. On the stairs, I dropped the golf-clubs I was still carrying, cursing softly, stumbling to my only drawer and grabbed whatever stuff I could.

I had to leave, had to get away from here, had to get Nicholas into safety, had to...

But then again, why was I running? 

All the chaotic thoughts I had been captured in came to a slow, gliding halt. 

It's not as if I had committed any crime, had I? 

I had done all my work, had not been speaking ill of her, and who could forbid me to go out and have some fun on a frozen lake? 

No one could. But if I had enough money to spend on skates and the club's membership, where did I get that from? And where did I hide it? 

It was all so sick, so unfair!

It had all started out so perfectly, so lovely, and as if for once the universe had conspired to make me happy. And now all my dreams came crashing down on me like a burning building. 

I sat down on the edge of my bed, suddenly overwhelmed by the wave of hopelessness and sadness that washed over me. 

I had never demanded anything great of life. I had only tried to save the life of my horse and to keep me from freezing in winter - and now I had been tempted to believe life could hold just a fucking little more for me, and I was suddenly in deeper trouble than I was ever before.

Why had my life been forced to meet with David's if we hadn't had a chance to be together in the first place?

The bitter cruelty of that would have made the story one of Cate's all-time party favorites, had she ever known all of this. But I for sure would never tell her. 

A sound on the yard brought me out of my self-pity, but before I could really identify the noise as three motorbikes leaving the place in all hurry, I heard someone rush up the stairs to my room.

Only the blink of an eye later, Cate was standing in front of me, fuming as I had never seen her before.

"What have you been thinking?", she hissed, her voice unsteady with anger.

"I don't kno-", I started in reflex, but she cut me off, spitting:

"Don't you dare to play those games with me, you ungrateful bastard! How could you dare to do this to your sister? How could you DARE?!"

Hold it - my sister? 

Somehow I was sure someone in the room had missed some important part of the story. And I wasn't absolutely sure that it hadn't been me.

As having been waiting for her line to appear, Liv stomped up the wooden stairs to my room, wielding a heavy golf-club in her hands, insanely furious even without shrieking at me.

"You pervert!", she screamed, exuding more physical menace than I had ever imagined she possibly could. And it was quite impressive.

"You fucking pervert! How could you do this to my Davie?"

"Excuse me? YOUR Davie?"

"He was going to marry me!", she squealed, tears of rage in her eyes.

Completely dumbfounded, I stared at her, trying to grasp the enormity of her delusion, failing flamboyantly at the first few attempts.

"I could hardly believe what David told us", Cate intervened. "I would have never thought that even you were capable to contrive such a conniving, jealous plan against you own family!"

Oh, suddenly we were a family? Now tell me, dear, when did you notice?

"You were fucking trying to steal my husband!", Liv screeched at me.

"Heavens, he's gay!!", I shouted back, trying to get her at least partially to her senses. "He will never marry you!"

Liv just wailed unintelligibly in response, carefully backed up by her mother, who added:

"He's just trying to be a bit rebellious. But he likes my Liv, and all know that."

"You're all fucking mad, you know that?"

"Watch your language, young man!", Cate hissed, and Liv filled her lungs for an other, earsplitting:

"YOU'RE TRYING TO STEAL MY HUSBAND!!!"

"He is NOT your husband", I said as calmly and pronounced as the situation allowed, and was surprised as my stepsister's eyes suddenly turned all cold and menacing.

"No. He's not. But he will be when you wake up."

\----

\- David - 

The first guests were starting to arrive and I realized the problem with a costume party, when you are looking for a specific person you have seen only once before. There were half a million ways to wear a costume that would make it impossible to recognize my mysterious, lovely boy.

Also it did not make my mission easier that my father kept introducing me to all the girls who all had the hunter's gleam in their eyes and seemed to be looking for the best way to gain my attention when I was not interested in the slightest.

I really tried to be polite, tried to dance with those girls who were not completely disgusting - and some were! Father watched in benevolent satisfaction, thinking that I had finally given in but really I used the dancing to scan the crowd for the one face I really wanted to see.

The only amusing distraction were Billy and Dom, wrestling with their costume. They had fought over who would take which end of the horse and come up with the decision, that they would change regularly. That made it rather difficult to have a decent conversation with them, as you could never be sure who you were talking to.

The girls I had flat out refused to dance with tried their luck with my two friends, surrounding the 'horse' like a pack of hungry wolves. But as they were both rather fond of the attention they all seemed to enjoy themselves. Although the girls were locked in a constant catfight about who would win which one of the boys hidden in the horse.

The girls fighting for my attention were even worse. They actually resorted to supple force once or twice, tripping each other or shoving a rival out of the way. It would have been funny had I been allowed to watch from the sidelines. But I was right in the middle of it.

At least my mother seemed remotely sympathetic. She saved me for a couple of minutes, dancing with me.

"Well, where is your 'new love'?" she asked, after I had led her back to her seat. 

I shrugged unhappily. "He wouldn't come out to talk to me, when I went to his place." I answered. "Maybe he doesn't want to see me?"

Her brows furrowed. "I can hardly imagine anybody resisting your charms, my dear son. I'm sure he will show up."

"And then what?" I looked over at father. "He won't like that."

She patted my hand. "Don't you worry, dear. Let your father be my concern. If your boy does show up and is interested... I promise I will get you out of your wedding deal."

\----

\- Orlando -

Probably, I just couldn't decide if I were to die of a split skull or of suffocation, so I merely opted for waking up.   
Wish I hadn't.

Groaning with the throbbing pain in the back of my head, I tried to turn around, for I was lying face-down on my bed and could hardly breathe. But most unpleasantly, I found my wrists and ankles bound with some slick kind of rope. 

Damn, first that fucking bitch knocks me out with a fucking golf-club, and then they have the bloody audacity to leave me here without any comment except those ropes around my wrists. If ever I had had any doubts about my stepmother being completely mad, I now had proof.

'stealing her husband'! Pah.

David wouldn't marry my bloody stepsister in a million years, not even if she were the last woman on earth. Or the last human being. Mad bitch.

I can't believe they did that! Fucking crazy bitches!

Making another attempt to turn around, I managed this time, only to be rewarded by an increased pain in my head and the experience that lying on your hands tied together behind your back is all but comfortable. But my eyes cleared, and in the low light that fell up the stairway from the stables I could see the rope around my ankles glistening softly.

Cables! Those fucking bitches must have ripped apart the two only lamps I owned to tie me up! My eyes fell on the alarm-clock on my desk, and I groaned as I saw that it already was well past ten in the evening. Fuck! Whatever David thought of me after all the shit Cate had told him about me by now, he definitely would be convinced I was trying to let him down tonight. 

Fuck!

But I was surely not going to give him up like this. My life was fucked up completely by now, and all I could do was at least to safe my self-esteem in facing David one last time and hear what he said about all this.   
And then I would go and be lost in the barren wasteland of my broken heart. 

Or work at Joey's for the rest of my life. 

Grimly, I turned to the side, beginning to press my wrists apart, relaxing them again, repeating the procedure. Maybe you girls know a lot about haircare, but you have fucking no idea of how to tie up someone, I thought to myself. But I shouldn't complain, this time your stupidity works in my favor, for a change. 

Widening the slick restraints bit by bit with my movements, I lay on the bed, staring into darkness, pondering bloody murder.

But that wouldn't help anything, would it? I could walk up at the party, beat my fucking relatives to pulp and probably be clubbed down by security, charged with assault and what not, and end in jail up alone, with neither David nor Nicholas. 

But all I really wanted was to know for sure if I had lost any chances with David. I knew it was completely delusional to think we might have a chance, considering my gender, my financial situation and his status. But I had to know for sure, or I would never be rid of this. 

If you do not at least reach out, you'll never know if you're able to catch a star, my mother always said. Well, when she died I was too young to remember much of her, but I liked the thought of this being one of her favorite sayings. 

I can't sink any deeper than I have already, I silently stated to myself. But I could lose the last chance at the love of my life, and I'm not going to let this pass me by.

So when I finally slipped my hands out of their restraints, I was decided to go to that bloody ball, walk up straight to my David, and see if I had any chance left. And if not, well, at least I knew for sure.

"Nicholas!", I yelled while I freed my feet. "Nicholas, can you hear me?"

A soft neighing answered me, and I has relieved to hear that they hadn't clubbed him down as well. Fucking bitches!

"Nicholas, we're going out for a ball", I said when I was finally standing next to my horse, gently patting it's flank. "But first, we'll have to pay a visit to Rosalie, and pick up one fucking sharp outfit for me. I've already wasted almost all that had been left of my life on that David, so he could just as well have everything, don't you agree?"

Instead of an answer, Nicholas just pressed his giant face against my shoulder, gently rubbing his nose against my chest.

"Oh, my dear Nicholas", I added so softly even I could hardly hear it. "Do you think he loves me as well?"

But my horse didn't answer.

\----

\- David - 

What had been bearable when the party had just started quickly turned into unnerving and then into just horrible. To have all those girls looking at me, like I was a juicy piece of meat was bad enough, but to watch their mothers and fathers talk to my Dad in hushed tones, discussing 'wedding arrangements' was plain simply too much. By now I could very well imaging how a prize bull at an auction must feel. 

Was I imagining things or was my father really trying to sell me for political favors? But that was the senator of Texas he was talking to right now, wasn't it. And he was winking at his god damned, cowboy-hat-wearing daughter too!

I freed myself from the circle of 'admirers' around me and walked over to my father.

He watched me approach, several stern lines forming on his brow. "Can I talk to you for a second?" I asked smilingly, all pleasant and polite.

We put a bit of distance between 'Mr. Texas' and us and then I turned on him like a hawk. "Dad, you don't really actually expect me to choose a wife like this, do you? Hasn't this joke run far enough by now? This is not the middle ages anymore!"

My father dropped any kind of pretense just as suddenly. "I am dead serious on this, David." he said. "Either you get married or you find yourself a job and work for your own living!"

So that was his real plan. He wanted me to work for myself. Couldn't he have said so in the first place without putting up this stupid game first?

"You really want to be rid of me, don't you?!" I hissed, anger making my voice louder and drawing stares from nearby party guests. "Well, you get your wish. I don't give a fuck about your plans or your money. Maybe I'll rot in the street but I'll not get married to one of these bitches!"

My father stared at me in shock and I enjoyed it tremendously. I looked at the big clock over the main entrance to the ball room and realized it was almost midnight. I had really played along with this long enough. I would go and look for my mysterious skater in his own home, as he clearly didn't wish to show up here. Couldn't really blame him either. The company was anything but desirable. And then I would run away with him to some unknown fate in love and poverty.

An utterly stupid idea of course but some part of me counted on my mother keeping me alive, whatever I did. So I spun on my heel and stalked off out of the room, hundreds of eyes following my retreat, quite some of them filled with unbelieving tears.

I had just reached the doors leading out onto the porch, when a soft voice stopped me.

"Are you leaving already?"

The only reason I turned around to look was that it was for once not a female voice. But I stopped dead in my tracks when I spotted the owner of that voice.

Most of the party guests had arrived in costumes fitting the 'prince and princess' theme. There were some exotic costumes like japanese geishas and arabian beauties, but this one stuck out like a razor blade among sticks.

The young man was dressed in an outfit consisting of shining black leather and silver chains and clasps that could only be called 'cyberpunk' in the coolest sense of the word. His hair was a spiky, dark mass that would have intimidated any manga character and his face was hidden behind a mask of elaborate neon face-paint. And his outfit also did nothing do conceal his shapely body.

If I had not been so intend on finding the boy that would hopefully turn out to be the love of my life I would certainly have noticed him immediately and given him more than a long appraising stare. But as it was, I was about to turn away again when he said: "Will you at least grant me one dance before you hurry off?"

There was a strange bit of deep sadness in his voice, that tugged on my heart. It would not hurt to give him one dance, would it? One last gesture of defiance for my father, before I ran away forever.

So I smiled at him, bowing slightly. "It will be my honor." I said, taking the hand he offered.

\----

\- Orlando -

Watching the mist of my breath dissipate in the crisp air of this fateful New Year's Eve, I stood at the flight of stairs that went up to the main entrance of the senator's mansion. 

Entering the grounds had proven far less difficult than I had thought, for even if David had not deposited an invitation at the gate, another one had come with my outfit.

And what an outfit that was!

I was dressed up like some... well, I have never seen anyone wearing anything like it. Shining black leathers, tight, with more straps and buckles than could ever be necessary. Heavy boots, gloves, all together looking more like a futuristic armor than anything else. 

But no mask. 

Whoever had equipped this nut had forgotten to add any kind of mask, and it was supposed to be a masked ball! But it would have been a bit hypocritical to go and ask for a refund, now, wouldn't it?

So the only thing I could think of was to paint my face, and all I could find to do the job was that garishly neon-orange paste the forest warden had used to mark the trees that were supposed to be cut down next. I had used that stuff when I was a kid to paint one of father's horses to make it look like a motor-bike, and apart from a very confused horse, it had been harmless. OK, it had taken some time until we found out that the way to remove this stuff was to use quite massive amounts of margarine, but once we knew, it got clean quite nicely. 

Also, I thought it a rather dark but very fitting thing to mark me as being ready for execution, considering that was quite the way I felt.

But it wouldn't have done to appear without any kind of mask, with my luck, I would have run into Cate and Liv first of all, and this way I had at least a chance to pass them unrecognized.

"Nicholas", I said, still a bit afraid of my own courage. "Wish me luck, will you?"

Neighing softly, my tall companion nudged me on towards the entrance, as if he was trying to push me on.

"You're sure about this, hm? Wish I was..."

But I turned around and stepped up the stairs to the mansion, one by one, listening to the snow crunch underneath my feet, trying to think of any intelligent line to start with once I faced David.

But, as to be expected, I found none. 

Then, far sooner than I would have liked, I faced the entrance of the mansion. But I couldn't make myself go close enough for the staff in livery open the doors, instead I kept myself outside the building, walking along the path that lead away from the door to the large windows of the central banquet hall. I tried to stay unnoticed, to move from shadow to shadow, until I had found a place where I could have a look into the hall without likely to be seen. 

Heavens, what a crowd! Princes and princesses, from all countries and ages of the earth were assembled here, and all were swirling around the most dashing young prince at the center of all attention. David.   
My David, hopefully. 

He was wearing the most ridiculous outfit, in a way, tight white trousers, a blue blouse and a dark-blue doublet. And a bonnet. A feathered bonnet! I had to bite my knuckles not to squeal in amusement. 

He looked SOO sweet. His blond hair and sharp features just fit the role perfectly, and he would have been so dashing, so ultimately dazzling if only he had smiled. But he didn't.

I could see it even on the distance, his face was smiling, but his eyes were not. Maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for us.

So I braced myself, a hopeful smile trying to steal itself onto my face most shyly. Maybe.

Turning around, I went back to the main entrance, this time not at all caring if I was noticed or not, stepping up in front of the huge glassen, double-winged entrance door with a self-consciousness and confidence I had hardly known I possessed. 

The two servants inside took a moment to register that there was someone outside, waiting for them to open, but I hardly noticed. For in the shining glass of the doors, I could see myself, and suddenly all my confidence seemed to waver. 

I looked... well, fierce, to put it politely. Dangerous, at least. 

That was a costume for a New York Halloween party, somewhere on an abandoned industrial site, but teeth-splittingly off-topic for such a august event as I was about to enter. And my glaringly painted face didn't do anything to smoothen my appearance. In contrary. I would stick out among those frilly, faked-period peopled like... whatever. 

Too late, anyway. 

The door was opening, and the warm and humid air welcomed me with all the smells and noises of so many people partying together.

Taking in a deep last breath of cool winter's air, I forced myself to make the important first step forward. Once I had managed to move my foot off the ground where it had apparently been glued to the paving-stones, it was surprisingly easy. 

So I entered the lion's den with less confidence than a fierce determination to end all of this as soon as possible, but I entered. And apparently, made quite an entrance. 

Not only did the boys at the door forget to close it behind me, also one by one, the conversations among the groups in the hallway I had entered slowed down and died. Only when a current of frosty air from outside whisked a few very confused snow-flakes around my ankles, the door was closed again. 

So I strode on, more guessing my way than anything else, the harsh sound of my boots clearly audible even through the surrounding clamor of the party. It felt to me as if my heart was beating in my throat, so loud everybody around just had to notice how nervous I was, but all just stared at me in slack-jawed disbelief.

I just hoped they were staring at me in awe, if not, it was only a matter of seconds until one of these morons gathered enough of his little wits to call security. And that would end my show rather quickly. 

Turning around left into a huge hall, I knew I got closer to where I wanted to be. Lots of people, every single one dressed in exclusively expensive costumes, all standing around the dance-floor, chatting, sipping of their crystal glasses. And all of them staring at me.

For a moment, I had to stop, and suddenly was VERY aware of how far I had ventured into territory I by all rights didn't belong. Virtually everybody stared at me, at my outfit, at my face. Thank heavens I had thought of wearing some kind of mask, if not everybody would have seen how crimson I turned underneath my neon-orange paint. 

Yet, contrary to all my fears, no-one called security, no-one suspected a pizza-boy in leathers coming to their show and trying to sort out one very endangered relationship. Lucky me.

Instead, they stared on, a mute wall of silk and velvet, gems sparkling in colliers, crowns and tiaras. And then, they parted in front of me, the human barrier splitting open as if on silent command, giving way to more people, more stares.

Heavens, this must be what old Moses had felt like when God parted the seas in front of him. This is fucking cool, man, he must have thought, but couldn't you have done it a little less boastful? Just a little?

The old man might have gotten an answer, I did not. So I just tried to stay cool, and did the necessary thing: I marched on as if this happened to me every day. I just hoped no-one noticed how much my knees trembled, for that surely would have ruined my entrance. And to top it all of, the band now had noticed something they had not rehearsed for was happening, and one by one, the musicians stopped playing. How unprofessional. How exceedingly, dangerously centering all attention to my person, how incredibly embarrassing. 

Dear God, if you listen, please let me survive this with my honor intact, will you? Please let Cate and Liv be at the other side of the building right now. 

In the sudden silence of the ballroom, the angered voice of David arose, clearly audible across the few people that were still standing between him and my nervous self:

"Well, you get your wish. I don't give a fuck about your plans or your money. Maybe I'll rot in the street but I'll not get married to one of these bitches!"

That definitely sounded as if he was talking to his father. And as if he was talking straight, at the most inopportune point in time I could have wished for.

The last people in front of me finally noticed that their current position was in the way of events far greater than their idle chatter, and scuttled away like roaches once you lift the fridge. Behind them, I could see David, still in his costume, facing a stately elder man, probably his father, both men clearly enraged. So I stopped some meters away from them, and before I could think of anything to say, David turned around and marched along the empty aisle that had formed in the middle of the room to let me pass; completely oblivious of all around him, passing me just by a few inches; his doublet and bonnet's pheasant's feather flying most dashingly.

How could he leave now? 

Fuck!

I had come here to talk to him, why on earth had he had to break up with his father right NOW?  
But I had to act. 

NOW.

"Are you already leaving, your Highness?", I asked, the anger I felt for him spoiling what little plans I had making my voice louder and chiller than I had intended to.

David stopped dead in his tracks, turned around and stared at me for a long, long moment. So that was what they called a deafening silence. Why'd he look so sad? Heavens, shouldn't he be happy to see me here? Shouldn't he take me in his arms and dance with me all night long? 

Maybe not, this wasn't a fairy-tale, after all; and so he just gave me a sad half-smile and began to turn away from me.

NO!

"Will you at least grant me one dance before you hurry off?", I heard myself say, happy to find that I could still improvise a bit, even if my heart had completely overruled my mind quite some time ago.

This time, he stared at me a bit longer, while all around us not a single word was spoken, nothing was to be heard except the rustling of cloth or the breathing of so many people.

Suddenly, David smiled, not as perfectly as he had done this morning on the lake, but credible enough to make my heart jump.

"It will be my honor", he answered, bowing lightly, and offered his hand.

This was a bumpy start, but we're getting somewhere, I thought. 

"Music!", David ordered loudly. "A waltz!"

A waltz? Eeep! And of course he was leading... 

"Sir?", David asked softly as the first tunes pearled across the room, and I just nodded, silently praying that I would not shame both of us if I fucked up now. But it was easier than I had thought, actually quite easy. And dancing with David was... heaven.

Soon, we danced across the room, oblivious of the people around us, who probably were mostly experiencing the exasperation of their lives over two young men waltzing together. I saw David's father rushing at us with fury in his face, red as a lobster. But then, I had to turn away again, and when I could look his direction next time, I only saw an elegant Lady in a midnight-blue gown ushering him off the dance-floor.  
Whatever. 

Now I could fully concentrate on my sweet prince, watch him closely, his lovely face the only clear thing in a world that apparently had dissolved into one horizontal blur. And music.

I hadn't paid any notice when I had entered the room, but the band must have been exceptionally good. And quite huge, for the music filled the whole place, and if I hadn't been so terribly in love with him already, I surely would have fallen for him at least now. 

But then, this politely smiling idiot opened his mouth, asking:

"Tell me Sir, who are you?"

I could have fainted, or laughed, or cried. Your choice. It was so hilarious. He still didn't recognize me. I didn't believe it.

"You still don't recognize me, do you?", I said, my voice probably expressing amused disbelief, maybe annoyance.

David stared at me for a long, long moment, then his eyes widened and he almost missed a step. 

"You...?", he asked voicelessly, and I couldn't help but smile. He was soo sweet.

"So, your Highness", I said in a voice that clearly betrayed my amusement, watching a slight blush creep up David's cheeks with great satisfaction. "Have you found an answer to my riddle?"

This time, he laughed, and it was a real laugh. Abundant mirth shone in his eyes, and I continued:

"Wearing a blue uniform with red marks,  
running through the forest like a squirrel in search of food,  
but the pizza-boy,   
he is not."

He still stared at me without comprehension for a while, and only as I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively, it clicked.

"That was YOU?", he asked, truly surprised. I just nodded, and went on:

"A shining suit as white as snow,  
fencing like a musketeer,   
but a student,  
he is not."

"I don't believe it - you again?" David now really seemed to be impressed. "You're not only the cutest man I know, you're also a man of surprisingly many talents."

And, with a wink, he added:

"Dancing being one of them."

Now it was my time to bite down a blush, but I think I managed quite well and instead continued:

"A pullover as soft as a duckling's feathers,  
skating like a love-sick fool,  
but a member of the country-club,  
he is not.   
Now who could that be?"

Gently shaking his head, David pulled me closer to him, smiling fondly, answering my silly riddle in the most lovely way I could ever have imagined:

"My mysterious, cute-footed little stranger. I have no idea at all of your name, but I still know who you are: the only person I would like to marry. If you agree, that is..."

\----

\- David - 

He was looking at me in wide-eyed wonder but he did not look like he disagreed with the idea in general. Just like he couldn't believe I had actually asked him that. Smiling reassuringly I pulled him even closer as the last of the waltz hung in the air.

"I have fallen in love three times in the course of the last week and every time it was you. That is more than enough to assure me that I want you. Now please tell me you want me too?"

A little smile formed on his lips, this time true and full of happiness and his eyes shone with joy. "Well, I..."

"YOU!" The ear-splitting shriek almost made me drop my hands from his hips to cover my ears. "You misbegotten bastard son of a whore! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"

I turned to face this unexpected threat, protectively pulling my new found love behind me. It was that girl that had met me outside his home and she looked murderous, her face crimson red, her eyes wide with fury, her small fists clenched. And she was heading right for me. What had I done to enrage her like that? Except of course choosing somebody else but her...

But she didn't stop in front of me and instead tried to get around me. It dawned on me that her rage was not directed at me but at my cute boy.

"HOW DARE YOU?!" Her voice had not dropped in volume and up close it was even more painful.

My lovely tried to make himself as small as possible behind me. He actually looked afraid, a pleading look entering his eyes, when I met his gaze.

"Who is this girl?" I asked him, more than a little confused.

"She is..." he started to answer but was interrupted by another voice, this time the older woman from his place.

"Don't listen to this little shit!" she exclaimed, somehow having appeared right next to me. "He is just the stable boy. He shouldn't even be here. I have no idea how he got in here. I'm so sorry he disturbed you. But he is such a cocky little liar! I will make sure he gets punished properly..."

She in turn was interrupted by my boy who was now suddenly looking murderous himself. "Stable boy?! I am your stepson, you evil old witch! You have stolen all that should be mine and now you dare to..."

He wasn't allowed to finish his sentence either. "What the hell do you think you're doing!" My father grabbed me by the shoulder and turned me around to face him.

To be quite frank I had no idea what I was doing so I just looked at him in mute confusion but he didn't notice that. He drew breath for another angry shout when the girl launched herself at my love with the clear intent to hurt him. I reacted completely out of instinct, plugged her out of the air and then complete silence descended over the ball room, when my fist impacted with her temple and she crumbled to the ground.

I was shaking with rage. To have all of these people standing around me shouting at each other all but ignoring me had just been too much.

"Enough! I don't give a fuck who this boy is, I love him and I am not going to argue about it. And if anybody dares attack him again I will do much more than hit that person." I turned to my father, fighting hard to remain calm. "Father, I mean it. You told me to find someone to marry, I have. Even if I have to go to Europe to do it..."

Again I turned to my mysterious stranger, taking both of his hands in mine. "If you want to that is?" I finished softly. 

There were tears of joy in his eyes now. "You still want me? Even if I am just some nobody, who..."

"Oh shut up, silly." I grinned and then just kissed him.

I clearly heard father starting to sputter behind me but then I heard the voice of my mother gently murmuring something and he quieted down rather quickly. It's wonderful to have a mother like that. And then reality receded as I lost myself in that first kiss.

\----

\- Orlando -

I wouldn't go back.

Not tonight, and probably never again.

It was already quite late in the morning when finally David and I went into his room, closing the door behind us, shutting out so much noise and chatter of all these people. 

Most wondrously, David's father had shown up after a while, not really happy with the situation, but apparently trying to cope. His mother had actually embraced me in front of all the guests and welcomed me into the family. Which some of said guests had taken as their clue that there was no more senator's son on the market and disappeared. But still more than enough remained to make the first hours of the new year a remarkable occasion.  
I was quite giddy from all this, and frankly couldn't believe even now what had happened. I was together with my David, in his house, and welcome and accepted by his parents. Nicholas had found a nice, cozy place in the senator's stables, and all seemed like a fairy-tale come true to me. 

"I'm so glad you're here", David whispered in my ear, pulling me into a close embrace, making me so conscious of his wonderful body hidden underneath that frilly costume.

"You're telling me?"

"Well, love", he replied while moving to the door without ever leaving our embrace, switching off the lights. "I'm sure it's been no less magical for me than for you. We'll both need some time to get to terms with what has happened here tonight."

Too happy and too tired to haggle with him about who has had the more strange things happening lately, and fiercely convinced I would win anyway, I just shut up and snuggled closer into his arms, leaning my face against his warm chest, listening for a moment to his beating heart.

The silence and darkness were soothing after the chaos and clamor of the last hours, and for quite a while we just stood there, holding each other, wondering about our sudden luck. Then, with a sigh, I said softly:

"I'm just sorry that I do have nothing to bring into your family except a horse you'll have to feed..."

"Oh, don't worry about that. Dad has got more money than we could probably ever spend."

Looking up at my lovers face, I could see him grin in what little light came in through the windows.

"No, really; I know what you mean. But I think I got good news for you in that regard."

Questioning, I raised my eyebrows, truly intrigued.

"Well, the same lawyers that have helped your stepmother in, well, 'securing her status', are working for my father as well."

"And that's supposed to be good news?", I asked, pushing David away from me. But he didn't let me go, instead added with a fiendish grin:

"Well, he's paying them far better..."

"Oh, you -", I started, but David cut off my insults with a kiss, sweet and passionate, and still clinging together we dropped onto his bed; ready to explore at great length what each of us hid underneath those costumes...


End file.
